


No More Gallifreys

by keita52



Category: Doctor Who (2005), Mass Effect
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Crossover, Crossover Pairings, Earthborn (Mass Effect), F/M, Gen, Mass Effect 2, Mass Effect 3, Paragon Commander Shepard, Season/Series 06, Sole Survivor (Mass Effect)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-12-12
Updated: 2017-05-03
Packaged: 2018-01-04 09:52:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 27
Words: 73,348
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1079544
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/keita52/pseuds/keita52
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Eleventh Doctor gets a call from the Illusive Man asking for his help against the Reapers. Having no idea what the crazy man was talking about, Eleven nonetheless decides to investigate. The Reapers are exactly the sort of thing he'd like to stop - but can he work with a soldier like Shepard, who tends to shoot first and ask questions later? And just how did the Illusive Man find him, anyways?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Reapers, not Daleks

**Author's Note:**

> Eleven (Matt Smith's Doctor) is appearing between The God Complex and Closing Time (Season 6).
> 
> Much love and thanks to my friends AudaciumLux and Craggidor for their beta efforts, and many many thanks to Chopped Bread, korrd, and CK for stepping up to help midway through. My spouse also deserves credit, for introducing me to BioWare games in the first place, and then for listening to me babble on about plots and plans.
> 
> The Doctor and the TARDIS are the property of the BBC; everyone else is property of BioWare. I'm doing this for fun, not profit.
> 
> This is still a work in progress - reviews and feedback are quite welcome!

_2185_  
 _The Illusive Man’s Base (Cronos Station)_  
 _Anadius/Horsehead Nebula_

The Illusive Man nodded to Miranda as she walked in. “Miss Lawson. How is Shepard?”

“Remarkably well,” Miranda said. “I think we’ll be able to bring her back soon.”

“Good. That’s partly why I wanted to talk to you,” he said, inhaling on his cigarette. “I’ve been working on the dossiers for Shepard’s team, and I came across something … rather interesting. Someone who could be of great help to Cerberus, but who will need to be convinced in the right way.”

“Much like you’re doing to Shepard?” Miranda asked dryly.

“Precisely.” The Illusive Man flicked at the controls next to him and brought up a holographic image of a large rectangular box, painted in blue. 

Miranda frowned at the image. “What is that?”

“It’s an old-style police call box,” the Illusive Man replied. “At least, that’s what it looks like. My intelligence suggests that there’s more to it. Much more. Beyond even the Reapers, potentially.”

“It’s just a box,” Miranda said, stepping closer to inspect the image.

“If my intelligence is correct, it’s actually a highly advanced ship able to be piloted by a single person, and go anywhere instantaneously.”

Miranda folded her arms in front of her and stared at her boss. “Are you making fun of me? Is this your idea of a little joke to give me a break from the Lazarus Project?”

“Miranda, I’m deadly serious,” he replied. “The rumors - legends, really - say that the man in the box is known as the Doctor. Just the Doctor, no other name. He’s an alien who appears human, and has supposedly intervened to save humanity in the past. He has some connection with Earth. Needless to say, he’d be a valuable asset for Cerberus.”

“So you want me to find him,” Miranda said. “Chase down a legend.”

The Illusive Man chuckled. “No, you have enough to do with bringing another legend back from the dead. I just wanted you to be aware of this, in case he shows up.”

“Right. I’ll be sure to call you if I see a blue … police box,” Miranda replied, shifting back and forth. “Is there anything else?”

“Just keep me posted on Shepard.”

Miranda nodded. “I will.”

* * *

_4135_   
_The Ood Sphere_   
_Mutter’s Spiral/Horsehead Nebula_

The Doctor leaned back against the console of the TARDIS and exhaled. “I can never go anywhere nice,” he said. “I always forget how rubbish the weather is on different planets.”

He looked around and remembered, again, that he was alone. His decision to leave Amy and Rory on Earth had been the correct one, but he was never quite happy when there was an empty TARDIS. Every time he thought he might find pick someone up from somewhere, the memory of Amy facing the Minotaur held him back. 

The period of loneliness would end. It always did. In the meantime, he was stopping at places he might never have visited otherwise. He hated risking crossing his own time stream, though he’d done it before. Things got very … messy.

It had been a whim to visit the Ood Sphere, he’d thought, up until they started talking about a new song, out in the far heavens (whatever that meant to an Ood). Muttering to himself, he found the coordinates that he’d need to visit the spot, and punched them in.

The Doctor felt the familiar whoosh and acceleration of the TARDIS and almost smiled for a moment. Then it was as if the TARDIS had crashed into a wall, stopping abruptly and sending the Doctor flying backwards.

“What was that?” he demanded as he dusted himself off and moved forward to the console. “We’re here,” he said, examining the screen, “but we’re not here. I hate logic puzzles.”

Off in the corner, the phone rang.

The Doctor’s head swiveled around to look - _glare_ \- at the phone. It was being called a lot more often than he’d like for being a supposedly _private_ number. If it was Amy, he’d forgive her. He supposed that went for Rory too.

He pulled the brake and walked over to open the door and answer the phone. “How did you get this number?” he demanded.

“Are you the one they call the Doctor?”

The voice on the other end was an older man’s, smooth, with an American accent. The Doctor frowned. “You still haven’t answered my question.”

“I’ll take that as a yes,” the man said. “Doctor, the human race is in danger. We need your help.”

“I’m hanging up if you don’t tell me who you are.”

A chuckle. “You can call me the Illusive Man.”

“That’s not very illusive … man.”

“You’ve surprised me. That doesn’t happen very often.” A pause, and a brief inhalation on the other end. “What do you know about the Reapers?”

The Doctor froze. A scene played through his mind - Rose outside of a church. A winged creature coming in from the sky. Pete Tyler stepping in front of a car.

“If you’ve got Reapers, you’re already done for,” the Doctor said coldly, “and in a few minutes this conversation will have never happened.”

“Interesting,” the man … the Illusive Man … said. “The part about being already done for, many who know the truth would agree with you. But what do you mean by this conversation will never have happened?”

“I mean if you’ve got Reapers, you did something so abominably stupid as to cause a temporal paradox, and not even my people can fight them off,” the Doctor said.

There was a pause. “I don’t think we’re talking about the same Reapers, Doctor,” the man said. “These Reapers are giant sentient machines bent on exterminating all organic life in the galaxy.”

“When did the Daleks start being called Reapers? That’s a ridiculous name.” The Doctor ran a hand through his hair. “Look, if you’re not going to talk sense, at least tell me something funny instead of something potentially terrifying.”

Another long pause. “I see. You have my apologies - I went about this in the wrong way. I will ask only one thing of you: go to Ilium, in the Crescent Nebula, and speak with Dr. Liara T’Soni. I think she will be able to explain the situation much better than I could. I hope you’ll help us, Doctor.” Then the man hung up.

“Why do people always talk in nonsense?” the Doctor muttered as he closed the door and went back inside the TARDIS. “Where was he calling from-“

He stopped dead. The call had supposedly originated from a space station in the year 2185. The TARDIS was in the location of that station.

“Illusive Man, you are going to illuminate some things for me,” the Doctor said, setting the TARDIS to go back to 2185.

Nothing happened.

“Did I forget to carry the one?” the Doctor demanded of the TARDIS.

He got no answer, of course, so he punched in a few more buttons on the console to try and come up with an answer. He looked up at the screen, and for a moment just stood there trying to make sense of what he saw.

There was a rift there. 

It was - and was not - like the black hole where the creature calling itself the Beast lived. Related, that was obvious. How, he couldn’t have said. The Doctor didn’t like the implications of the readings he saw.

“Another parallel universe,” he said, still talking to himself. “How did he talk to me from a parallel universe? How did he know about me?”

He walked away from the console and paced in circles. “If it’s a trap, I can’t see it,” he said. “It’s a mystery. A complete puzzle. He’s talking about something I’ve never heard of - on a level that I _should_ have heard of, if it was in this universe. But it isn’t. But how could he reach me?”

The Doctor continued pacing for a few more minutes until he finally sighed. “There are things that I know have yet to come,” he said. “So I must be able to do them. Which means that I am able to return to this universe, somehow. Which means…”

The anxiety was beginning to ebb away, replaced by excitement. “Something new. I never could turn down something new. Geronimo!”


	2. A Meeting of Minds

_2185_  
 _Illium_

Liara T’Soni jumped as the oddest sound started. “Nyxeris!” she called. “Is there an alert of some sort?”

“I have no idea what that sound is,” Nyxeris replied as she came in from the other room. “It’s nothing I’ve ever-“

She stopped and stared at the area in front of Liara’s desk. An area which was shimmering in and out as if something was decloaking there - that something being -

A blue box?

The box’s door swung open and a human poked his head out. “Hello,” he said. “I’m looking for Dr. Liara T’Soni. The Illusive Man said I should talk to you.”

“By the Goddess!” Liara breathed. “How - how did you do that? What is that?”

“TARDIS. Time and Relative Dimensions in Space. Very long explanation that we have absolutely no time to go into,” the human said. “The man who calls himself Illusive was trying to get me to help against the Reapers, whatever those are. He seemed to realize he’d made a hash of it and said I should talk to you. You’d be able to explain it better.”

“They attacked the Citadel last year,” Liara said. “Or, one of them did. Sovereign. It was behind the attack from the geth.”

The human looked around the room, frowning. “Definitely a different universe,” he said. “Dr. T’Soni. I need you to pretend, for a minute, that I am an ignorant child. I know nothing of the world or your place in it - or even what your species is called. I know nothing about Sovereign, or the - geth? I need you to start from the beginning.”

“Do you work for Cerberus?” Liara asked, trying to figure out the trick.

“I don’t work for anyone except myself,” the human said. “Well. Sometimes UNIT, when I’m feeling nice.”

Liara sat back down at her desk. “Leave us, Nyxeris.”

“Dr. T’Soni…”

“Leave us,” she repeated. The younger asari reluctantly left the room and went back to her desk.

“If that is what you truly want, there is an easy way to do it,” Liara said. “Easy for you, that is. I can … open my mind, to yours, and allow you to know what I know. I shouldn’t be offering this. It’s … intense, for me, and leaves me quite vulnerable. There is no one on this planet I trust to oversee this.” She took a deep breath. “But you’ve arrived here in a manner I can’t even begin to fathom, offering your help against the Reapers. It is … an acceptable risk.”

The human walked over and knelt in front of Liara, looking up at her face inquisitively. “Dr. T’Soni. Liara. I promise you have nothing to fear from me. I understand what you are describing, and I may even be able to make it easier for you. My species has the ability to do something similar.”

“Your species?” Liara asked, confused. “You’re not human?”

“I only look human,” he replied. “I am…. well. It might be easier to explain in a few minutes.”

Liara nodded and took a deep breath, steadying herself. She rose from behind the desk and walked over to him, taking both his hands in hers and meeting his gaze. “Relax,” she said, “and embrace eternity!”

* * *

_He (she) was encased inside a bubble, terrified, desperate, tired and hungry and despairing. He (she) was barely aware of the gunfire outside, only registering it_ as please let it not be the geth, please, I don’t want to die.

Dr. T’Soni, I presume.

_Human. Female. N7 armor._ I remember what that means, I think.

_He (she) was running through the Citadel, through the dying embers and the twisted metal, past the bodies - human. Asari. Turian. Salarian. There. Anderson. Lifting the metal away. Revealing a krogan. Then a quarian. Then… finally… a human walked forward._

Shepard. She did it. She stopped Sovereign.

_He (she) was on the Normandy, flames erupting around her, running for the escape pods. Where is everyone? Wrex? Tali? Kaidan?_ Shepard?

_Joker. Tear streaks cutting through the grime._ I lost her.

_Shepard’s body on a slab. Confirmation that he (she) never wanted. He (she) doesn’t know what the Collectors want with Shepard, but the answer can’t be anything good. He (she) doesn’t trust Cerberus, but they have the resources. The ability. Shepard can live again._

I can’t let her go. I can’t.

_He (she) looks up at the hologram. The man inhales on his cigarette._ Do we have a deal?

Take her. Bring her back.

* * *

_She (he) was looking down on a planet silhouetted in red and orange, with brown lakes and snow-capped mountains. A planet covered in cities encased in bubbles - cities of tall, thin towers and spires. Majestic cities that perched on the edge of the Time Vortex._

Gallifrey. Home of the Time Lords. The Shining World of the Seven Systems. _My_ home.

_She (he) saw the red and orange skies go from empty to filled in an instant, peace broken by hundreds - thousands - of invaders. Invaders filled with hatred for anything not their own kind. Invaders who would not rest until everything on that planet was dead._

After they took Gallifrey, they were going to take the rest of the universe. I had to stop them.

_She (he) saw the red and orange skies burning, the towers of those majestic cities falling. Gallifrey was burning._

In fighting the Daleks, my people were becoming … ruthless. Monstrous. The line between us and them was growing thinner every day. I had no choice. I had to end it.

* * *

Where there was one, there were now two.

The Doctor opened his eyes and remembered that he was a Time Lord, not an asari.

He looked up at Liara and saw her for who she really was, this time. A young member of an ancient race. Hardened by the past two years, by the decisions she’d had to make.

“Archaeologist,” he said. “I will refrain from pointing and laughing.”

“Time traveler,” she said. “You could help us answer so many questions.”

“Yes, but that would be cheating,” the Doctor said. “Which I would never do.”

Liara folded her arms. “You cheat all the time.”

“Well. Sometimes.”

Liara shook her head and then raised a hand to her temple. “It … didn’t hurt. As much as it did before.”

“With Shepard,” the Doctor replied.

“Yes. With Shepard.”

The Doctor took a step back and looked around the room again, seeing everything in a different light. Putting things in the context that they’d lacked before. “So, you’re a biotic,” he said. “I think I’d like a demonstration.”

Liara smiled. “You just love seeing impossible things.” She lifted a blue arm, which was suddenly encased in the bright blue glow he now recognized as indicative of biotic ability. The Doctor was lifted off the ground, slowly, and he felt his face crack into a smile. 

“Telekinesis. Marvelous!”

“What you have is no less marvelous,” Liara replied, easing him back to the ground, then gesturing to the TARDIS. “The ability to go anywhere in time and space - I’ve never heard of anything like that. And there’s more? No. I’m sorry. There _were_ more.”

“In the universe I come from,” the Doctor said. “I still don’t know how I got here.”

“Does it matter?” Liara asked.

“It might.” The Doctor began pacing. “If I can get here, there’s a chance that the Reapers could get there. And my universe is less - militaristic - than yours. Without your knowledge, they would be completely unprepared to fight the Reapers. Which means that you have the best chance of stopping them.” He stopped and looked out over the balcony in Liara’s office, taking in the sight for a minute. “You’ve never heard of me, and you’ve made it a habit of chasing down the ridiculous, especially in the last two years. So how did the Illusive Man know about me?”

“I see,” Liara said. “You’re right that it does matter. But I’m not sure that it’s the best thing for you to focus on. Rather, I should focus on it.” She looked at her terminals. “Among other things.”

“I have to stop the Reapers,” the Doctor said. “The Illusive Man was right about that. I can’t sit by idly and let machines destroy the human race. I’ve never done so before. I’ve pushed the Daleks back many times before. I know their weaknesses, their history. I need to know everything there is about the Reapers.”

“Then you should join Shepard,” Liara said.

The Doctor stopped pacing and looked at her. “Your friend - as honorable a person as she is - is still a soldier. Someone who carries a gun and has been known to shoot whoever gets in her way. I hate guns. I protect the innocent.”

“Shepard protects the innocent as well.”

“And she’s working with a pro-human organization,” the Doctor said. “Humanity at all costs. I’ve broken organizations like that in the past.”

“I don’t think that Shepard would mind if you broke Cerberus. Not if she’s still the Shepard I remember.”

“You’ve quite a bit of faith in that.” The mention of faith stung, for just a moment, and he let a realization sink in: Shepard was like him. Followed by people convinced that she could do anything, fix any problem. Liara hadn’t seen Shepard in two years, and she believed.

Did Amy still believe?

“I’ve touched her mind, as I’ve touched yours,” Liara said. “I think you know what kind of insight that gives you into a person.”

“Yes.” The Doctor sighed. “I suppose you’re right.”

“Any more objections I can answer for you?”

“Possibly. Haven’t thought of them yet. I’ll tell you if I do.”

Liara inclined her head at this and went back to sit at her desk. A console chimed, and she reached over to press a button. “Yes, Nyxeris?”

“Dr. T’Soni, I’ve received a message from Nos Astra control. The Normandy has requested permission to dock.”


	3. Shepard

_2185_  
 _Illium_

Liara resisted the urge to stand up and pace as she waited for Careena to call back. She wished she had access to the Nos Astra security feeds, but since becoming an information broker she’d learned there were some lines that it was better not to cross. Her information said that Shepard was alive, but she wouldn’t really believe it until she saw Shepard’s face herself.

Her console beeped. She put it on speaker so that the Doctor could hear.

“Careena. Thank you for returning my call.”

It was part of the game she played with the asari administration of Illium, pretending that they were doing favors for each other, instead of trafficking in Illium’s official currency.

“Liara,” the concierge said. “Commander Shepard was accompanied by a turian and a quarian. The turian was carrying a sniper rifle, and the right side of his face was scarred.”

“Garrus and Tali,” Liara said, letting out a long breath. “Thank you, Careena. That will be all.”

“I seem to recognize those names,” the Doctor said.

“They were with us on the first Normandy,” Liara said with a nod. “Which means they can be trusted, and Shepard can trust them. The quarians have no love for Cerberus right now, and Garrus … isn’t particularly fond of organizations in general.”

The Doctor rubbed his forehead. “I seem to recall that turians are a rather hierarchical and regimented species.”

“Garrus claims he isn’t a very good turian,” Liara replied.

The Doctor’s mouth quirked in a smile. “I’ve been accused of being a bad Time Lord. I think I may like this Garrus.”

“It’s quite the uneven exchange we had,” Liara said. “You learned a lot from me, but I only got a little from you.”

“Well. That’s probably for the best, Liara.” He wasn’t going to say anything more than that, she knew. She wondered if she’d continue to get these little flashes of insight from his behavior - and if he was receiving the same sort of insights from her.

Liara tapped another button. “Nyxeris. As soon as Commander Shepard arrives, send her in.”

“Yes, Liara.”

“You don’t think she’ll come straight here to see her old friend?” the Doctor asked.

“It’s Shepard. Things tend to happen to her on the way to other things.”

* * *

The door to Liara’s office opened, and a human in armor walked in, flanked by a bird-like alien and a person in a suit.

A moment later, the Doctor’s brain caught up with the new information Liara had given him. _Andrea Shepard, Council Spectre_ walked in, flanked by _Garrus Vakarian, former C-Sec officer_ and _Tali’Zorah nar Rayya vas Neema, quarian engineer_.

“Shepard! Nyxeris, hold my calls,” Liara said, rising from behind her desk and walking over to embrace the human.

The Doctor took a minute to study Shepard and her … companions. He wasn’t sure if he’d be able to view them with an unbiased eye, but it was worth trying.

It was easy to tell that Shepard had been through a lot. She carried herself like a woman who expected a fight any moment and was willing to meet the challenge straight on. His gaze passed to Tali’Zorah and he reluctantly acknowledged he wouldn’t get anything there - there were no facial expressions to read. Body language wouldn’t be enough, and he wasn’t sure how much emotion he’d get from her voice.

Garrus Vakarian, however, was easy to pin down. Even in a room where they had been greeted enthusiastically by an old friend, he was looking around for possible signs of trouble, going back and forth between the surroundings and Shepard. The scarring that Careena had mentioned looked fairly recent. His mandibles flared out when he saw the TARDIS, and he walked over to inspect it. The Doctor tensed, watching, but Garrus simply walked around it, then returned to Shepard’s side. It seemed as though he had written it off as an odd office decoration. It spoke volumes about what the turian had seen since joining Shepard two years ago.

“My sources said you were alive, but I never believed … It’s very good to see you,” Liara said, letting go of Shepard.

“You have sources now?” Shepard asked, sounding amused.

“A few. Sources, contacts, even a little hired muscle. I’ve been working as an information broker.”

“Is this one of your contacts?” Garrus asked, gesturing to the Doctor. His voice was slightly rumbled and echoed, an interesting mix that the Doctor hadn’t heard often.

Liara turned to look at Garrus. “He’s a … colleague. This is-“

“Doctor John Smith,” the Doctor said, putting on his brightest smile. “It’s a pleasure to meet you all. Liara’s told me so much about you.”

Shepard exchanged a quick glance with the other two, clearly skeptical of the stranger, but willing to accept him for now.

“Being an information broker has paid the bills since you … well, for the past two years,” Liara said. “And now you’re back, gunning for the Collectors with Cerberus.” She took a seat behind her desk, and Shepard took the seat in front of it.

“If you know that, then you know that I could use your help,” Shepard said.

“I can’t, Shepard,” Liara said firmly. “I’m sorry, I have commitments here. Things I need to take care of.” She looked over at the Doctor. “But my colleague might be able to come with you.”

“What’s his area of expertise?” Shepard asked, turning her gaze on the Doctor, assessing him. “Is he a biotic? Hacker?” She looked as though she wanted to add something like _clearly not a soldier_.

“I’m clever,” the Doctor replied. “I don’t possess biotic skills like Liara does, but I can solve any problem, and I’ve been known to hack a computer or two.” 

“I’m not going to turn away help,” Shepard said, “but you should realize that the stakes are very high. There’s a chance none of us are coming back from this. You’ll have to be able to hold your own in a fight.”

“That’s not really where he could help you,” Liara said.

Shepard shrugged. “Well, if you vouch for him, that’s good enough,” she said. “I’d trust your word before the Illusive Man’s.”

“Not a bad thing to have more non-Cerberus folk on board,” Garrus agreed.

“We can discuss it later,” Shepard said, nodding to the Doctor before turning back to Liara. “You said you had things to take care of. What kind of things? Are you in trouble?”

“No, no trouble,” Liara said. “But it’s been a long two years. I had things to do while you were gone. I have debts to repay.” She paused. “Listen, if you want to help, I need someone with hacking expertise, someone I can trust. If you could disable security at key points around Ilium, you could get me information I need. That would help me a great deal.”

“What’s this all about, Liara? Can’t you just talk to me?” Shepard asked.

“Don’t you think I want to, Shepard?” Liara asked. “This isn’t because I don’t trust you. This is Illium. Anything I say is probably being recorded.”

“Hacking a terminal is pretty easy. Why do you need me?” Shepard asked.

“Couldn’t your … colleague do it?” Tali asked.

“He’d be spotted,” Liara said. “Discovered too easily. You … know how to hide. Be cautious. And, as I said, I trust you.”

Shepard smirked at that. “Funny. People usually think that when I show up, it means they should start running because something’s about to explode.”

“Hacking the security node won’t get you the data. It just creates a minor glitch in the system,” Liara continued. “You’ll have a short time to find a local server left vulnerable by that glitch and upload the data to my system. I’m leaving my own system vulnerable so that the data can be imported during that short time.”

“If it will help you, I’ll take care of it,” Shepard said.

Liara nodded. “Thank you, Shepard. This may help me pay a great debt.”

“On another subject, there’s an asari named Samara here on Illium,” Shepard said. “Do you know where I could find her?”

“Samara … Yes. She arrived recently and registered with Tracking Officer Dara,” Liara replied. “You can find Dara at the transportation hub.”

“Why would Samara have to register with a tracking official? Is she a criminal?” Shepard asked.

“No, in fact she’s quite the opposite,” Liara said. “Samara is a justicar, one of an ancient sect of asari warriors. Dara can tell you more.”

Shepard nodded. “I’m also looking for Thane Krios. He’s supposed to be here on Illium.”

“The assassin,” Liara said, nodding. “Yes. He arrived here a few days ago. My sources tell me he may be targeting a corporate executive, Nassana Dantius. He contacted a woman named Seryna. Seryna has an office in the cargo transfer levels. Perhaps she can tell you where Krios is.”

“That was all just off the top of your head?” 

“I’m a very good information broker, Shepard,” Liara replied, smiling proudly. “The world of intrigue isn’t that different from a dig site. Except that the dead bodies still smell.”

“Hah! I wish more archaeologists were like you,” the Doctor said. 

“Thanks for the help,” Shepard replied, rising from her chair.

“Of course. May I ask what you plan to do first? It sounds like you’ve got much to accomplish on Illium,” Liara said.

Shepard looked over at Garrus and Tali. “Well, I think we can take care of your little hacking request first. After that, I think I’ll try and find Samara.”

“Come back to my office when you’re done with the hacking,” Liara said.

Shepard nodded. “Of course. Shouldn’t take too long. I’ll talk to you later, Liara.”

When they had left, the Doctor took the seat that Shepard had vacated. “You have a plan,” he said, making it a statement and not a question.

“You heard Shepard. She’ll take all the help she can get,” Liara said. “It’s clear to me that you’re actually the tougher customer. You need to see that it’s worthwhile working with Shepard. I’m going to ask her to let you come when she goes to find Samara.”

“One of your people,” the Doctor said. “A … justicar. Is that some sort of space police? No, wait, let me see if I can get it.” He shut his eyes and concentrated. “Justicars … give up everything and live by the Code. The Justicar Code. They use to Code to determine what’s right and what’s wrong, and act on that. And… that means she’s justified in killing anyone who doesn’t follow the Code. Oh. Bit harsh, isn’t that?”

“Many would agree with you,” Liara said.

“So why do you want me to go with Shepard for that?”

“Because I think - I hope - that it will give you a chance to see Shepard operate without necessarily having to shoot first,” Liara said. “Based on what I have heard about Samara’s reasons for being here.” She hesitated. “You’re really… nine hundred years old?”

“Nine hundred and sixty,” the Doctor said. “Give or take fifty years.”

“Samara is approximately that age.”

“Ahh,” the Doctor said, looking thoughtful.

“I said that I only got a little from you, compared to what you got from me,” Liara said, rising to walk around the desk again. “I think it would be … helpful … for you to speak to someone who has had as long a life as you. I am only one hundred and eight, after all.”

“I’m starting to think you got more from me than you’re letting on, Liara T’Soni,” the Doctor said. “I’m not sure whether I like it or not.”


	4. Samara

_2185_  
 _Illium_

It didn’t take long before Shepard returned, having hacked the terminals and gotten the information that Liara needed. Shepard agreed to let the Doctor tag along as they attempted to find Samara, though she didn’t bother to hide how irregular she found the whole situation. 

Their first stop was the transportation hub, where Officer Dara elaborated on what they could expect when they found Samara. The Doctor listened and didn’t interject at any point, which was unusual for him. Her description of Samara was more elaborate - and troublesome - than Liara’s had been. Did _everyone_ in this universe walk around with a gun and start shooting whenever someone looked at them wrong? At least Samara had reasons for it, and the Doctor had to admit that he wasn’t terribly fond of corruption and bribery either. He pondered Dara’s words during the cab ride over to the commercial spaceport. He had to remember that this wasn’t his universe, and there had been no Doctor to run around solving things peacefully. 

Madame Kovarian’s words echoed in his mind briefly. _“This endless, bitter war…”_

They exited the cab just as an asari walked away from a short, round alien in a breather suit similar to Tail’s. The information the Doctor needed came a moment later - it was a volus, guarded by a pair of turians. 

“What do you want?” the volus demanded as Shepard walked over. “I’ve already got mercs wanting to kill me like they did my partner! I don’t need any more trouble. As if that weren’t enough…”

 _Everyone_ was complaining about the asari justicar. The Doctor wondered if anyone would offer to pay Shepard just to get her off-planet.

The volus told the story of his murdered business partner and the mercenary gang who had probably (definitely) done it. From the looks that Garrus and Tali exchanged (it must have been two-way, even though the Doctor still couldn’t read the quarian’s expressions) they didn’t buy his story of “innocent merchants” for a second. 

They found the investigating officer, Detective Anaya, easily enough. She was clearly stressed over the justicar situation, and perked up when Shepard mentioned that she was hoping to recruit Samara for her mission. “Justicars usually work alone, but they are drawn to impossible causes,” she said.

“We’ve got that covered,” Garrus noted.

“You’re awfully anxious to get Samara out of your district,” Shepard asked, which seemed to be a rather obvious statement.

“My bosses want me to detain her,” Anaya explained. “They’re worried she’ll cause some kind of cross-species incident. But her Justicar Code won’t let her be taken into custody. If I try it, she’ll have to kill me.”

The Doctor thought, irrelevantly, that he was glad River didn’t follow this Justicar Code. Her body count would be a lot higher.

“I have no intention of dying, so if you lure her away with some big noble cause before I have to carry out my orders, I’m thrilled to help you,” Anaya said dryly.

Shepard looked annoyed. “Your superiors are sending you to certain death for no good reason. You have a right to disobey.”

“We can disobey suicidal orders?” Garrus asked, sounding incredulous. “Why wasn’t I told?”

“That’s about twice a day,” Tali added.

“Most of the time, I’m not being stupid about it,” Shepard insisted. “I can’t say the same for Anaya’s superiors.”

“I’m a cop, and I know my duty,” Anaya said. “I’ve been ordered to detain her and I will - unless I can get her to leave my district first.”

“How do I get to the crime scene?” Shepard asked.

“It’s around the corner - go outside, take a left. Look for the police line. I’ll send word to let you in.” Anaya paused. “Be careful - the local Eclipse mercs have been all over those back alleys lately.”

“What do I need to know about these mercenaries?”

“Eclipse mercs are professional killers,” Anaya said. “They sell red sand, trade illegal weapons tech, and smuggle criminals off-world. They control some back alleys around here. I haven’t been able to find their nest yet, though.”

Shepard looked around for a minute, then apparently decided to satisfy her curiosity. “What can you tell me about justicars?”

Anaya thought for a minute. “They’re a kind of … humans might call them ‘warrior monks’. They live by a complex code that compels them to punish the wicked and protect the pure. They’ve been a part of asari culture for millennia. I read adventure stories about justicars when I was a child.”

“What do you think of Samara herself?” It appeared as though Shepard was trying to get a feel for this person that she wanted to recruit. The Doctor was starting to be glad that Liara had insisted he accompany Shepard. Liara’s perception of Shepard bordered on hero-worship, and the interaction with Detective Anaya was shading the Doctor’s perspective into ‘a real person’. Perhaps it was arrogant of him to assume that the only person who could have a larger-than-life presence was himself.

He wondered what Amy or River would have said to that.

“She’s been a justicar longer than three of your life spans,” Anaya said. “Whoever she was before she swore that oath, that person is dead.” The Doctor could _definitely_ relate to that.

Shepard stood. “I have to go,” she said. 

Anaya acknowledged this with a nod of her head. “Good luck.”

The group left the detective’s office and headed over towards the crime scene. Two officers on duty acknowledged Shepard approaching and let her pass through the virtual police tape. Shepard paused to read something on a tablet and pressed a button. “Upload complete,” a synthetic voice said. Neither Garrus nor Tali commented on this, so the Doctor decided it was something that was considered “regular”.

As they rounded the corner, Shepard brought out a shotgun and pressed a button on the side, bringing up a holographic overlay of a red bullet. Garrus and Tali followed suit - Tali was also carrying a shotgun, and Garrus had the sniper rifle that Careena had mentioned earlier. They picked up the pace, and the Doctor lagged behind.

Shepard paused as she heard someone talking in the distance. “ … Alpha squad went after that justicar 20 minutes ago, and they’ve gone dark.”

“Mercs,” Garrus said.

Shepard rounded the corner and sprinted behind a crate as one of the mercenaries yelled “A human. Open fire!”

At least, the Doctor thought, Shepard hadn’t been the instigator. He stayed behind the corner, occasionally peeking his head out to see the progress of the fight. He saw Shepard’s arm glow bright blue, setting off a series of explosions that headed from Shepard towards the enemies. The explosions sent the asari flying off to one side - some got back on their feet afterwards, and some didn’t. Garrus lifted his left arm, which glowed bright orange for a moment and sent a spark towards one of the robots that was moving forward, slowly. The robot halted, fizzled, and then fell over. Tali made the same motion with her left arm, and one of the other robots paused, then turned around and started firing on its former allies.

The fight was over quickly. Shepard, Garrus and Tali had been outnumbered, but that hadn’t seemed to daunt them in the least. 

“Liara didn’t mention you had biotic abilities,” the Doctor commented as he came out from behind the corner.

“I didn’t, before Cerberus rebuilt me,” Shepard said dryly. “Guess the Illusive Man wanted to get his money’s worth. Had to learn a whole new fighting style.”

Garrus laughed. “C’mon, Shepard. You can’t tell me you didn’t enjoy the challenge.”

“Well. A little,” Shepard said, grinning. “Let’s keep moving. Samara has to be here somewhere.”

At the end of the hallway where the fire fight had taken place was another cordoned-off area. Shepard passed through the tape and the door opened for her, the others following.

The first thing the Doctor saw was a uniformed mercenary flying across the room, bouncing off the wall and landing on the floor next to them.

“Those were my best troops,” a voice said from up ahead, in what looked to be some kind of office.

An asari strode forward in a tight-fitting red outfit trimmed with gold. “Tell me what I need to know, and I will be gone from here,” she said in a calm, serene voice. Her body was outlined with the blue biotic glow. Samara, most likely. “Where did you send her?”

“You think I’d betray her? She would hurt me in ways you can’t imagine,” the mercenary said, coming out from cover, her gun trained on Samara. The two asari were now circling each other warily, like a pair of cats.

“The name of the ship. Your life hangs on the answer, Lieutenant.”

“You can kill me, but one of us will take you down, Justicar.” The other asari’s skin was a darker blue, almost purple. Each asari had different facial markings, the Doctor realized ( _remembered_ ). 

Samara clenched her fist, then threw out her right arm, the biotic glow intensifying. The mercenary was lifted off the ground as Samara stared at her, expression implacable. Samara whipped her arm back and the mercenary flew across the room, crashing through a window and landing hard on the ground.

Samara ran forward and jumped off the landing, the blue light intensifying and slowing her descent so that she landed gracefully on her feet. The mercenary had not yet gotten to her feet as Samara approached her, and she backed herself towards the wall. Samara put one booted foot on the mercenary’s neck.

“What was the name of the ship she left on?” Samara asked.

“Go to hell,” the mercenary spat out angrily.

Samara’s expression didn’t change. “Find peace in the embrace of the goddess,” she said, and twisted her foot to snap the mercenary’s neck.

In that instant, she reminded the Doctor of River Song.

* * *

Shepard strode forward after the justicar killed the mercenary. Her biotic abilities were impressive, even for an asari. She could stand to have another pure biotic on her team, and Samara’s brand of crazy was more in line with what Shepard was comfortable with than Jack’s. She wasn’t sure anyone would be comfortable with Jack’s brand of crazy.

“My name is Samara, a servant of the Justicar Code,” the asari said, walking towards them. “My quarrel is with these Eclipse sisters, but I see four-“ she paused, apparently re-assessing the new addition to Shepard’s party “three well armed-people before me.”

 _She got that right_ , Shepard thought. The strange human had, as promised, stayed out of the way during the fight. She still didn’t know what to make of him, except that Liara seemed to want her to take him on as a party member. Something was off, but Shepard didn’t know what. She hoped she’d get the chance to figure that out later.

“Are we friend? Or foe?” Samara asked.

“That merc was wounded and helpless,” Shepard said. “Do you just kill anyone who won’t help you?”

“If my cause is important enough, yes. Are you different?”

Shepard’s tone grew steely as she replied. “I’ve killed enemies, but always with good reason.”

“I answer to a code that is clearly defined. If my actions are true to that code, I am just. If they are not, I am unjust.” Samara’s tone was the same slow, even cadence that she’d had during the fight with the Eclipse mercenary. “I don’t pretend it was a simple matter, or that it seems right to everyone. But I sleep well at night, and that is more than most can say. How may I be of service to you?”

“I’m going up against suicidal odds, and I need the best - that’s you,” Shepard said. 

“I sense the truth in what you say, and it humbles me,” Samara said with a nod of her head. “But I seek an incredibly dangerous fugitive.” She turned to the side and started walking back towards the dead mercenary. “I cornered her here, but the Eclipse sisters smuggled her off-world. I must find the name of the ship she left on before the trail goes cold.”

“I wish you were willing to go with the human, Justicar,” Detective Anaya said from behind them. Shepard cursed herself for not having heard the approach. “I’ve been ordered to take you into custody if you won’t leave.”

“You risk a great deal by following your orders, Detective,” Samara said, turning back to face the detective. “Fortunately, I will not have to resist. My code obligates me to cooperate with you for one day. After that, I must return to my investigation.”

“I won’t be able to release you that soon,” Anaya said, her tone carrying a warning.

Samara’s voice didn’t change. “You won’t be able to stop me.”

“There must be some way we can all get what we need,” Shepard said. She understood Anaya’s position, but by now it was obvious that a lot of good cops would die - for no reason - if Samara was detained for longer than a day.

“I see a way. While I am in custody, you find the name of that ship,” Samara said. “Do that, and I will join you. Then the Code will be satisfied.”

“A moment ago, you refused to give up your investigation. But now you’ll swear to follow me?” Shepard asked, trying to get a feel for the changing situation.

“If I stay, I will be compelled to kill many innocents to escape incarceration,” Samara said, confirming Shepard’s thoughts. 

“Like me,” Detective Anaya said dryly.

“I may be killed - and my quarry would be free to continue murdering. If I come with you and survive your mission, I can resume my investigation.” That was a pretty big if, in Shepard’s mind, but she could work with it.

“To do that, I need the ship’s name to track her to her next hiding place,” Samara continued. “It is a simple choice.”

“Do you have any leads?” Shepard asked.

“The volus merchant, Pitne For, is tied to this. Eclipse mercs are preparing to kill him,” Samara said, walking past Shepard towards the exit. “Get the truth out of him. He may know a way into the Eclipse base.”

Detective Anaya walked to Samara’s side. “Well, I’ve got to get back to my station. And, I guess I’ve got to take you with me.”

“And me,” the Doctor said. All eyes turned to look at him. “Well, you don’t have to take me, but I’d like to come along. Chat with Justicar Samara for a bit. I’d prefer to avoid the shooting that seems to be coming when Shepard assaults the base full of mercenaries.”

Shepard felt relieved at that. She really didn’t need a non-combatant trailing her for this.

“I guess you can stay with Samara,” Detective Anaya said. “I’ll have to babysit her anyway.”

Samara looked over the Doctor, then Shepard. She nodded. “Thank you, Shepard.” She peeled off and started heading back the way they’d come, Doctor Smith and Detective Anaya following.

“What the hell are we going to do with him?” Garrus asked.

“I don’t know,” Shepard said. “Maybe Samara will have some ideas after spending time with him.”

“Did you see that blue box in Liara’s office?” Tali asked.

Shepard and Garrus looked at her. “It’s just a box,” Garrus said. “Isn’t it?”

Tali shook her head and brought up her omni-tool. “I had my omni-tool doing passive readings. There’s something really weird about the box. It’s giving off some kind of weird energy.”

“Dark energy?” Shepard asked, remembering Tali’s mission on Haestrom.

“Maybe. In some ways, dark energy is a catch-all term for ‘energy we don’t understand’, so in that sense, yes, it is dark energy. On the other hand, the readings are different from Haestrom, so … no.”

“Think it can help against the Collectors?”

Tali shrugged. “I’d have to take more readings to be sure.”

Shepard nodded. “We’ll do that when this is over. Hopefully finding that ship for Samara won’t take too long.”


	5. First-Name Basis

_2185_  
 _Illium_

“I’d like to talk privately with Samara,” the Doctor said when they got back to the police station. “Could I do that, Detective Anaya?”

Anaya looked over at Samara, who had taken a seat on a nearby ledge and folded her knees up to her chest. “There’s an interrogation room nearby,” the younger asari said. “I promise not to lock you in.”

“That’ll do,” the Doctor said. “Assuming, of course, that Samara is amenable to a private conversation.”

Samara hopped down from the ledge. “Yes, of course,” she said. “If I am going to be working with you, it would be good to get to know you better.”

“This way,” Anaya said, leading them into a small room and then leaving them alone.

Samara took up the same position she’d had outside, sitting on the table, knees pulled to her chest. It wasn’t a sign of fear or discomfort, the Doctor could tell. She was still completely at ease. Nerves of steel, that one.

“I did not catch your name,” she said. 

“Just call me the Doctor,” he replied.

“Should I be telling you to call me the Justicar, then?” Samara asked, her voice taking on a hint of amusement. It was the most emotion she’d displayed yet.

“If you like,” he said. “But I’m fine with just calling you Samara, since you seem to prefer that.”

Samara inclined her head in acknowledgment.

“So,” he said, starting to pace around the room. “Tell me more about justicars.”

“We are individuals who have forsworn family, children, and worldly possessions apart from some weapons and armor. We travel asari space righting wrongs, as defined by the ancient code we have each memorized.”

“From what I understand, Illium is dominated by asari, but is not actually considered asari space.”

“My quarry fled to this place,” Samara said. “I am sworn to hunt her down, and I will follow anywhere she goes. It is rare for a justicar to leave asari space, but I must follow my oath. If I suffer for it, I will accept that.”

“Hm. Your Justicar Code is very strict,” the Doctor commented, continuing to pace.

“It may seem so to you, but this is my oath. The expedient path may be fast and simple; that does not make it the right path.”

“That, I can agree with,” the Doctor said, pointing a finger at her. “Although I have been known to make hasty decisions when necessary. To save worlds.”

“Are you in the business of saving worlds, then?” Samara asked. “I had heard the name Shepard before. I doubt there are many who haven’t.”

“Yes, saved the Citadel, stopped the geth invasion, then disappeared for two years,” the Doctor said. “Everyone in the universe knows Shepard.”

“Are you jealous of Shepard?” Samara asked, tilting her head to the side.

“What, me? No. Never.” The Doctor paused. “Well, maybe a little. I’m used to being the one everyone knows by name.”

“Just ‘the Doctor’,” Samara said.

“Yes.”

“I’ve never heard of you.”

The Doctor bit back the urge to tell the whole truth. Let it all spill out. But he was there to find Shepard, and so Shepard needed to hear the truth first.

“Not important right now,” he said, after a long moment of silence. “I’ll explain later. I’m here, as in here talking to you, because Liara T’Soni thought it might do me some good.”

“I know her,” Samara said. “The daughter of the traitor Benezia. She is here on Illium. She spoke with you?”

“She’s the one person in this universe that I trust,” the Doctor said.

Samara blinked. “Interesting,” she said, but didn’t elaborate. “Is that why you are joining Shepard?”

“In a way,” the Doctor replied after considering it for a minute. “Generally speaking, this is the sort of thing I get involved in. But it was Liara who convinced me that Shepard was worth helping.”

“Why did you hesitate?” Samara asked.

“I don’t like guns,” the Doctor said flatly. “I hate the mindset that guns give people. It makes it easy to solve problems in the wrong way. Causes senseless violence, destruction, pain and sorrow. There’s enough of that in the universe without an idiot with a gun adding to it.”

“That may be true,” Samara said, “but out here in the Traverse, lawlessness reigns, and not carrying a gun simply makes it easier for the mercenaries to loot your corpse. I think that if you are to help Shepard… you must get used to guns.”

“I’ll never get used to guns,” the Doctor said. “But … maybe … I can put up with random acts of violence. For a time.”

* * *

Shepard entered the police station with Garrus and Tali, and walked over to Detective Anaya. The asari rose to greet her. “They’re in one of the interrogation rooms,” she said, walking to the back. A door opened in front of her, and Samara and Doctor Smith exited.

“I’ve got the name of the ship,” Shepard said to Samara. “Your fugitive left here two days ago on the AML Demeter.”

“Shepard, you impress me. You fulfilled your part of the bargain, and I will fulfill mine,” Samara said with a nod. “I am ready to leave immediately, if that will satisfy your superiors, Detective?”

“You’re free to go, Justicar. It has been an honor having you in my station.” Detective Anaya paused. “And it’s nice you didn’t kill me, too.”

“The Normandy is docked near the main trading floor,” Shepard said. “I’ll see you aboard.”

Samara brought her gaze up to rest on Shepard’s face. “I must be sworn to your service, so that I am never forced to choose between your orders and the Code.”

Shepard had no idea what that meant, exactly, but she nodded in acceptance of this caveat. 

Samara concentrated for a minute, and then her eyes opened wide and turned a bright blue, almost white. Channeling biotic energy? She knelt and bent her head.

Detective Anaya stood, seeming fascinated by what she was seeing. Doctor Smith also seemed fascinated, his eyes wide as he watched Samara.

“By the Code, I will serve you, Shepard. Your choices are my choices, your morals are my morals. Your wishes are my code.” Biotic blue energy surrounded her, brighter than it had been in the warehouse where she’d killed the Eclipse mercenaries. 

Samara stood, her eyes flashing to that blue-white again before returning to normal, as the biotic glow faded. 

“I never thought I’d see a justicar swear an oath like that,” Detective Anaya said wonderingly.

“If you make me do anything extremely dishonorable, I may need to kill you when I am released from my oath,” Samara added.

 _Justicars are weird._ Shepard was awed by the level of trust Samara was giving her, and she felt as though it must show on her face. “I can see that this is a very important act, Samara. Thank you.”

Samara nodded. “Truly, the life of a justicar can get lonely. I admit, I am looking forward to serving with a company of honorable heroes. Shall we return to your ship?”

“I need to speak to the detective,” Shepard said.

Detective Anaya had returned to her seat and looked up at Shepard. “Thanks for getting Samara out of my district. I can tell my granddaughters about meeting a justicar. And you’ve just upped my chances of living long enough to have grandkids.”

Shepard reached for the notepad she’d picked up earlier. “I have proof that Eclipse killed the volus merchant.” She placed it on Anaya’s desk.

“Let’s see what you’ve got there,” Anaya said, picking it up and looking at the contents. “Interesting, but I can’t verify it. It would be inadmissible.”

“I vouch for Shepard and any evidence she brings forward,” Samara said, watching the proceedings.

Anaya thought for a minute. “I accept the judgment of the justicar.”

“Just like that?” Doctor Smith asked. “One word from Samara and you change your mind?”

“Asari run this planet,” Anaya replied, “and no asari doubts a justicar and lives to tell the tale.” She nodded to Shepard. “Thanks, Shepard. I wasn’t sure about trusting a stranger - and a human, at that. But you came through. It’s a shame this Elnora escaped, but I’ll get her. At least you’ve put her on the run.”

Shepard winced, cursing herself for letting Elnora go again. She should have paid more attention to what Pitne For had told her about Eclipse - _every one of them kills someone to earn their uniform._ And Elnora had been in uniform.

“Okay, enough with all the congratulations. I’ve still got a spiraling crime rate.”

Shepard wasn’t done yet. “I have proof that Pitne For smuggled in red sand and illegal weapons tech.” She was glad she could nail that bastard, at least.

“I’ll send in some officers to arrest him and his cohorts,” Anaya said. “This is a big help, Shepard. I can’t do much to thank you, but we do have a small discretionary bounty fund. Take this.”

Shepard nodded and accepted the funds. “Shall we go, Samara?” She paused. “Doctor Smith?”

“I am ready, Shepard,” Samara said.

“I’ve got something in Liara’s office,” Doctor Smith said.

“It’s mostly on the way back to the Normandy,” Shepard said, considering. “Samara, we’ll meet you at the Normandy.”

“Of course, Shepard.”

* * *

“So, Doctor Smith,” Tali said as they walked back, “do you know anything about that blue box in Liara’s office?”

“It’s mine, actually,” he said casually.

“Yours?” Shepard said. “So what is it? Tali said it was giving off dark energy.”

“Or something like dark energy,” Tali added.

“It’s my ship,” Doctor Smith replied.

“Your _what_?” human, turian, and quarian voices asked in unison.

“How can that be a ship?” Tali said. “There’s no engine. No life support. It’s not big enough for a crew.”

“The TARDIS doesn’t need a crew. Just me.”

“The _what_? That’s the name of your ship?” Shepard would have felt sorry for Tali, trying so hard to grasp for something she could understand, if she wasn’t feeling the exact same way at that moment.

“No, that’s what she _is_. She doesn’t have a name like your, ah, Normandy.”

“Will you start making some _sense_ , Doctor Smith!”

“Actually, it’s just the Doctor,” the man said.

“Okay, ‘just the Doctor,’” Shepard said, exasperated. “You’re telling me that a blue box that can fit inside someone’s office is a ship. That’s piloted only by you. I hope you’ll forgive me for not just taking your word on that.”

Doctor Smith - the Doctor - actually _grinned_ at that. Like it was Christmas morning. “Oh no, I would never expect you to just take my word. I’m happy to show you.”


	6. The Blue Box

_2185_  
 _The TARDIS (parked on Illium)_  
 _Normandy SR-2_

_“Keelah!”_

“Spirits!”

“What the _hell-_ “

“By the Goddess.” That one was more of a soft, whispered exclamation than the others, who had basically yelled the minute they stepped inside. Well, Liara did have some idea of what to expect - while Shepard, Garrus, and Tali had been completely surprised.

The Doctor sat back and grinned as he watched the four of them wander around the TARDIS. It never got old, watching newcomers react to the various unbelievable aspects of his ship. In fact, he was glad that they had all responded so decisively, expressing their wonder and amazement. He liked reactions.

“How is this possible?” Tali asked. She had been the most taciturn previously, but the Doctor was finally starting to get a read on her. Watching her walk around, he was realizing what he should have from the beginning: ships were the way to a quarian’s heart. As the others stumbled around, varying degrees of blindly, Tali had gotten her bearings right away and seemed to be trying to identify as many moving parts as she could. The Doctor was surprised to see her getting it right, more often than not.

“Don’t touch anything,” the Doctor said, and for the first time he read Tali’Zorah fully and clearly: she glared at him through her helmet.

“As if I would,” she said indignantly.

“Yes, you’re right. I’m sorry. Should have known better.”

Garrus had poked his head down a corridor and came back to the control room. “How big is this … place?”

“Big,” the Doctor replied.

“How does it all _fit_?”

“It’s basically another dimension inside the TARDIS. Which stands for Time and Relative Dimension in Space. Creating a little pocket of consistency that can go anywhere.”

Garrus’ mandibles moved, but the Doctor couldn’t quite tell what the expression was supposed to be. “Amazing. Think about the potential for infiltration work! Just get behind your target, open the door, open fire…”

“I am not,” the Doctor said, “letting you use the TARDIS to kill people more effectively.” He also wasn’t going to tell Garrus about the Hostile Action Displacement System. That would just give the turian even more ideas.

“But you want to help us against the Reapers,” Garrus said.

“That’s different.”

“I don’t really see how.”

“I do not mind helping you destroy the Reapers, because they are a threat to every living thing everywhere,” the Doctor said. “But I’m not going to pop in behind a band of mercenaries.”

“What about the Collectors?” Shepard asked.

“I’d consider that. Under the right circumstances.”

Garrus snorted. “Are there wrong circumstances with the Collectors?”

“I still don’t know much about the Collectors, so yes, there could be,” the Doctor said.

“So,” Tali said slowly, “you can go anywhere in this.”

The Doctor was happy to turn the conversation back towards something that would let him show off. “Yes. Here to there in an instant. It also travels through time.”

“Time? You mean … it could take me back to Rannoch, before the geth war? I could see the homeworld? The real homeworld?” Tali was talking much faster than she had before. “I could tell them not to build the geth, and…”

“Stop right there,” the Doctor said. He always had to mention this. “No, you can’t. It’s part of your history already. If you stop the events that lead to your people becoming migrants, then you might never have been born. Along with many other things that can’t be foreseen. I might be willing to take you to Rannoch, but only if you promise not to interfere.”

“This time travel business must be complicated,” Shepard said. “How do you avoid mucking up the past? Or … the future, for that matter? But if it’s the future, it can still be changed…”

“Your future. Someone else’s present. Most of the time I can tell if I’m allowed to mess with things or not.”

“Allowed? By whom?”

“Time.” He paused. “Sometimes the TARDIS herself.”

“That’s… confusing.”

“Yes, it is. Good thing I’ve had lots of practice at it.” The Doctor spun around. “Now then. Let’s go to the Normandy. Commander Shepard, where’s a good spot to park the TARDIS?”

“The shuttle bay, I guess,” Shepard replied. “Probably the most open space there.”

“Wait - if you’re going to the Normandy-“ Liara began.

The Doctor grinned and paid no attention to what was almost certainly going to become a protest. “Right then.” He threw a switch, and the TARDIS lurched into motion.

* * *

“Unidentified object in the shuttle bay.”

Joker looked over at the holographic image of EDI next to him in the cockpit. “Say what?”

“Unidentified object in the shuttle bay.”

“Okay,” Joker said slowly. “I still don’t get it. We’re still docked. There hasn’t been a hull breach or anything. So how come you think there’s something wacky in the shuttle bay?”

“Because there is, Mr. Moreau. I cannot explain how this occurred, but I am certain. There is an unidentified object in the shuttle bay."

Joker sighed. Shepard was still out on Illium, so he pressed the intercom button for Miranda’s office. “Miranda? EDI says something weird is going on in the shuttle bay. Could you check it out?”

“Something weird?” Miranda repeated.

“That’s all I know,” Joker said, exasperated. “Just check it out, will you?”

“Fine. Tell Jacob to meet me there.”

“So I’m a messaging service now, am I?” Joker grumbled, but punched the button for the armory. “Jacob. Something weird in the shuttle bay. Miranda wants you to help check it out.”

“On my way, Joker.”

* * *

Miranda Lawson was rarely surprised. Oh, she couldn’t predict everything that was going to happen, but she had become very good at taking things in stride and adapting to different situations.

The sight of a blue “police box” in the shuttle bay was extremely surprising. Miranda just stared at it for a moment, wondering how it got there and what it was doing. Then she remembered why she knew to call it a police box - the Illusive Man had mentioned something like this shortly before the Lazarus Project had ended abruptly. 

“So he did it,” she murmured softly. It still seemed absurd that this … _thing_ … in front of her was actually capable of traveling through space -and time. Miranda’s mind started churning through the possibilities.

“Who did what?” Jacob asked, coming up besides her, then stopping and gaping at the sight in front of him. “Whoa.”

Miranda shook her head, trying to clear the disbelief. “The Illusive Man. Told me to be on the lookout for this.”

“And what the hell is this?” Jacob asked, gesturing to the police box.

Miranda opened her mouth to reply, but shut it again as the door opened and Shepard walked out. 

“ _Shepard?_ ” Jacob asked. “What the _hell_!”

“Funny, that was my reaction,” Shepard said dryly. She stepped out and was followed by Garrus, Tali, an asari that Miranda didn’t immediately recognize, and another human. No. If the Illusive Man had been right, an alien who looked human.

“We’re on the Normandy!” Tali exclaimed. “That was … like a mass relay. Only there was no mass relay, it was just-“ she raised her arms and made a swooping gesture. “Noisy and bumpy. Like a quarian ship. I want to do that again!”

“How do you all _fit_ in there?” Jacob asked.

“Other dimension. Or something like that. He didn’t explain it very well,” Garrus said, looking at the newcomer. “And I still say that it could be very useful-“

“We’ll discuss it later, Garrus Vakarian. Now. Who would you be?” the stranger asked, looking over Miranda and Jacob.

“Are you the Doctor?” Miranda asked him.

Everyone except the Doctor turned to look at her in surprise. “Ah, good, someone who’s heard of me!” the Doctor said. “Except … wait. Do you work for the Illusive Man?”

“Miranda Lawson, and yes,” she replied.

“So would this ship be considered a Cerberus operation?”

“Yes.”

“Right then.” The Doctor closed the door of his police box behind him and locked it decisively. “Let me make this clear to you, and I’ll make it clear to _him_ if necessary. This is _my_ TARDIS. Just because I’m coming to help Shepard does not mean that I give you, or _anyone else_ with Cerberus, permission to poke at my TARDIS. You lot can’t be trusted with its technology. If you try to do _anything_ , I will find other ways to help Shepard. Is that clear?”

Miranda schooled her face into a neutral expression. “Crystal. I don’t know if he’ll like it, but he did put Shepard in charge, so-“

“What the man said,” Shepard said, picking up the cue smoothly. “No one pokes at the TARDIS.”

“I have recorded these instructions,” EDI said. “Rest assured, Doctor, your ship will be safe.”

“Oh, the ship speaks!” the Doctor said. “Am I right? I’m right, aren’t I?”

“You are. I am EDI, the AI of the Normandy. I am pleased to make your acquaintance.”

“AI,” the Doctor muttered. “Interesting.”

“Shepard, the asari justicar Samara has arrived,” EDI said.

“Okay,” Shepard said. “Jacob, Miranda… thank you for the caution. You can come with me to help get Samara settled in. Tali, can you take the Doctor to Mordin’s lab?”

“No problem,” Tali said.

“Mordin?” the Doctor asked.

“Our head scientific researcher,” Jacob said. “Professor Mordin Solus, former Salarian Special Tasks Group.”

“Right.” The Doctor looked as though he was struggling to figure out exactly what that meant.

“I’ll meet you there when I’m done with Samara,” Shepard said. “Liara… you’re welcome to stay on board for a little while. I’m sure Joker would like to see you. And Dr. Chakwas.”

“Oh, you’re Liara T’Soni,” Miranda said, finally placing the asari. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

“You were onboard the first Normandy,” Jacob said with a respectful nod.

Liara nodded. “I was. I am working as an information broker on Illium now. But I am glad to see Shepard again.”

“I still have one more person to pick up on Illium, so you can leave with us when we go to find Thane Krios,” Shepard said to Liara.

“And we need to meet my contact at Eternity,” Miranda added. She wasn’t prepared to say more in front of the others - it was too important, and she wasn’t letting anyone have any more details than they needed.

Shepard cast a glance over at Miranda and nodded. “Don’t worry, Miranda. I haven’t forgotten.”

“Yes, that will work,” Liara said. “I can’t spare too much time … but I won’t pass up this opportunity.”

“Okay. Elevator’s this way,” Shepard said.

* * *

The Doctor was looking forward to meeting Mordin Solus, the “scientific researcher”. He liked those types. He had a vague image of what salarians should look like, but Mordin’s appearance still surprised him. Instead of the two horns, Mordin only had one - the other was flat, as though it had been chopped off at some point, and he had scarring on his face.

“Tali! New crew member?” the salarian said.

“Professor Solus, this is … the Doctor.”

“Hm. No other name?”

“No, just ‘the Doctor’,” the object of discussion said cheerfully.

“Non-medical?” Mordin inquired.

“Yes.”

“Good. Less chance of confusion with Dr. Chakwas.” Mordin stood and gestured to a chair nearby. “Sit. Need baseline readings for protection against seeker swarm.”

“The seeker swarms are what the Collectors use to immobilize their captives,” Tali explained. “Mordin developed a counter-measure that protects us when we go out on missions.”

“Yes,” Mordin said, nodding vigorously. “Do this for all new members. Saves time. Never know when there will be fighting.”

The Doctor settled himself in and prepared to look smug.

Mordin’s left arm flashed orange, as Garrus and Tali’s had during the fight. Now that the Doctor was studying it up close, he recognized it as an _omni-tool_. It was actually some sort of holographic overlay that could still be manipulated. He decided he wanted one.

Mordin pressed a few buttons and held the arm up to the Doctor, moving over his body. His already large eyes widened even further. “Two hearts! Not human?”

“No,” the Doctor said, grinning.

“Know of no other species that fits parameters,” Mordin said.

“I’m a Time Lord.”

Mordin’s eyes got even wider, which the Doctor would have said was impossible a moment ago. “ _Time_ Lord. Astounding implications. Must know more. For now, continuing with examination. Two hearts - redundancy, like krogan?”

The Doctor nodded.

“Interesting respiratory system. Pulmonary tubes - greater oxygen stores? Core temperature lower than human.” The omni-tool continued to glitter as it moved over the Doctor’s body. “ _Fascinating._ ”

“Is he always like this?” the Doctor asked Tali, who was still watching.

“Yes,” Tali replied.

“Saves time. Speech completely intelligible,” Mordin said, almost indignantly. “Enough data for seeker swarm protection. Processing now. Results soon. Explain more about Time Lords? Species, origin, abilities?”

“I’ll cover that in a minute,” the Doctor promised. “As soon as Shepard gets here. There’s a lot to explain, and I was hoping for some of your input as well. I’m told you’re the smarty-pants around here.

“I think that’s my cue to leave,” Tali said, “before my head explodes from all the jargon that’s about to be thrown out.”

“Not jargon! Scientific terminology,” Mordin said.

“That’s just a fancy way of saying jargon.”


	7. Explanations and Extrapolations

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A few clarifications about this fic, that may or may not be necessary:
> 
> What it is: The Doctor running around with the crew of the Normandy and changing the events of ME2/ME3.  
> What it is not: Sontarans and krogans having arm-wrestling contests.
> 
> What it is: The Doctor treating the Reapers as a threat and a problem he needs to solve, with the help of Shepard and everyone following her.  
> What it is not: The Doctor sonics a Reaper and it blows up. Or he calls UNIT and they blow it up. Or he brings in the Judoon.
> 
> What it is: A plot-driven fic with certain relationships highlighted and/or developed, whether they were explored in the game or not.  
> What it is not: "Shepard couldn't understand why she was drawn to this mysterious stranger. What she didn't know is that he had a thing for dangerous women... and Shepard was the most dangerous of them all."
> 
> Some of this will be clarified in the technobabble in this chapter, but it seems important to state this up front to try and avoid major disappointment later. Some of what I'm outlining is interesting ideas that don't really fit in this fic - and some of it would make the fic extremely boring. If you've liked what you've seen so far, please stick around!

_2185_  
 _Normandy SR-2_

Shepard entered the tech lab after seeing Samara to the observation lounge to find the Doctor and Mordin already deep in conversation.

" -independent development. _Would_ be too similar to be coincidence, save for Reapers. Confirmed existence of Reapers and role in galaxy cycles explains _much_." Mordin shook his head. "Elegant explanation. Fits several theories. Can _not_ understand denial."

"I see Tali took off," Shepard commented.

"Ah! Shepard. Good. Can get started." Mordin went to sit behind his desk so that he could start taking notes. "Begin, Doctor."

The Doctor nodded. "First, Shepard. I realize that you've already had the limits of what you know to be possible tested today with my TARDIS." Shepard saw Mordin pause and look up, mouthing the acronym as if trying to make sense of it. "This will seem completely fantastic, but I am telling you the truth. If you don't believe me, you can ask Liara."

"She said you were a colleague," Shepard said, remembering. "She trusts you?"

"Liara said that she'd melded with your mind in the past, to help process the knowledge you received about the Protheans," the Doctor said. "She did the same with me. To give me the knowledge of this universe."

Shepard blinked. "Say again?"

"This universe." The Doctor smiled. "I'm not from around here, as they say."

" _Parallel universe_?" Shepard thought Mordin's head would explode, he looked so excited. "Truly? Travel between universes _possible_?"

"Possible, yes. Advisable, maybe not," the Doctor continued.

"How?"

"Don't really know," the Doctor said. "There was a rift-"

"Back up," Shepard said. "I still don't know _who you are_." So help her, if he just grinned at her and said _I'm the Doctor…_

"I'm a Time Lord," he said. "My people are from a planet called Gallifrey. I'm not sure if the planet exists in this universe or not - my people certainly don't. Regardless, it's outside the Milky Way, and I'm aware that galactic civilization is just that: galactic. Constrained to a single galaxy.

"We're called Time Lords for a reason. For millennia, we have understood and mastered the Time Vortex, which allows us to travel anywhere in time and space. Our TARDISes are - were - my TARDIS is how I do that. Stands for Time and Relative Dimension In Space, Mordin." The salarian looked up, nodded, and went back to typing. "Basically, the interior exists in a dimension different from the exterior. Bigger on the inside, as I like to say."

"So why does it look like a blue box?" Shepard asked. She _thought_ she might be starting to get it. Maybe.

"Well, technically, she can look like anything, but the chameleon circuit has been stuck on the police box for … ages now. I keep meaning to fix it."

"She? Does your ship also contain an AI, Doctor?" EDI asked.

The Doctor jumped a little and looked over his shoulder. "Hello, AI. Listening in again?"

"I am everywhere in this ship. However, I can refrain from making further comments if it disturbs you."

"No, go ahead." The Doctor turned back to look at Shepard and Mordin. "A TARDIS is a living ship. Alive. Though not really capable of talking like, ah, EDI here. In some cases, able to take actions on her own, although that really only happens when things go completely pear-shaped. You shouldn't worry about it. As far as you're concerned, she'll do what I tell her to."

"Why are you _here_?" Shepard asked.

"I was actually contacted by the Illusive Man," the Doctor replied, which startled Shepard. "And no, I don't know how he did it, but he called the TARDIS and asked me to come and help you. He directed me to Liara for a more complete explanation. I'm not sure why."

"Liara did give him my body," Shepard said slowly. "Maybe he thought she'd be inclined to help again. Though he told me she was working with the Shadow Broker and couldn't be trusted." She snorted. "I'm sure he had his own reasons for doing it. I expect I wouldn't agree with them, which might be why he didn't tell me."

"As you might have guessed from my speech back in the shuttle bay, I have no particular love for Cerberus," the Doctor continued. "If I decide to stay, Commander, it's because I think you're worth helping. Which I do. I've fought species like the Reapers before. I hope that I might be able to make a difference here."

"So how did you defeat them?"

The Doctor sighed. "With lots of running and being clever."

"That's not very helpful," Shepard said.

"No, it isn't. I need to know about the Reapers before I can defeat them," the Doctor said. "The last time I faced the Daleks… I failed. They got away. Before that, I had … help." He paused, as though collecting his thoughts. "They brought me on board their ship to gloat. My old enemy, Davros… he needed to see me fall."

"I don't think that's going to happen here," Shepard said. "The Collectors tried to kill me - did kill me - two years ago. If it wasn't for Cerberus, I'd already be dead. I don't think they're going to be so kind as to invite me onboard for milk and cookies."

"I turned their own weapon and systems against them," the Doctor said. "And there was quite a bit of prophecy. And monologuing. And a countdown. And … well, that's more detail than you need to know."

 _Well, that was very unhelpful_. "So, is there any way we can get the TARDIS on board a Reaper?" Shepard asked, turning her focus back to what could be predicted and verified. "If we could figure out a way to destroy it from the inside, your TARDIS could get us there."

"Geth cannot be hacked. Too many programs running on platforms. Always fight it off. Assume Reapers must have similar defenses." Mordin shook his head. "More data needed. Possible, but need to know Reaper weaknesses. Right now … none."

"I think Professor Solus is right," the Doctor said. "Right now, there's no guarantee that a trip onto a Reaper wouldn't be one-way. And destroying one Reaper wouldn't be enough." He paused. "Hang on. Isn't that what you're doing for the Collectors? It was all kind of confused. I'm not sure I got that."

"We have the ability to follow the Collectors," Shepard said. "We're on the path towards finding their home world. It's not a great lead, but it's the only lead we have. We know there's a connection between the Collectors and the Reapers. We can't get to the Reapers-"

"So you go to the Collectors," the Doctor finished. "Right. Well. I will do my utmost to make sure that everyone comes back from the Collectors alive."

"But what about _time travel_?" Mordin insisted.

"Time travel is a _fact_ in my universe." The Doctor began pacing. "The fabric can adapt, change, rebound. Different universe, different rules. I don't _know_ your rules. I'd need a lot more time to figure that out. And," he said, forestalling the objection he thought Mordin was about to make, " _making_ that time, by me hopping around, risks destabilization, and decreases my chances of getting home." He frowned. "Usually the sort of thing I'd just go off and do, but I don't fancy being stuck here permanently, and rifts were always tricky things."

"Rift- not stable?"

"I need to check the readings from the TARDIS, but it appears to be stable at its current configuration. Which means that one TARDIS can pass through without doing damage. The more travel, the less stable it becomes. General rule for rifts." He stopped and leaned back against the wall. "It doesn't appear as though the ability to travel rapidly between places is a problem. Given what your mass relay system does. It appears similar enough. Time is another issue."

"I may be able to assist with that," EDI said. "I can process information at an advanced rate. Since this is a new topic, I am not sure how effective I will be, but it may be possible for me to figure out the limits of what the universe will permit for time travel. I will need to interface with your ship."

The Doctor pulled a face. "But you're Cerberus."

"I operate within Cerberus parameters."

"Then… no. I'm sorry, EDI. You seem nice, but I already said I won't give Cerberus data on my ship."

"Very well."

"Guess I'll just have to do it myself, then," the Doctor muttered.

"If I can be of any assistance -"

"Yes, yes, I'll let you know," the Doctor said, waving a hand around.

"Mentioned your species - your planet - not in this reality," Mordin said. "Know this - how? Other differences?"

"Probably lots," the Doctor said. "I've never seen you, or a turian, or an asari before. The other times it's happened, it's been more like … alternate versions of the reality I know. Subtle changes. Sometimes having big effects, but you can usually point to one thing, or two, well, a small handful. As far as I can tell, things are completely different here. Humans are the only constant." The Doctor glanced over at Shepard. "You lot. You're everywhere."

"Opinion shared by many species," Mordin said with a nod. "Especially batarians." He paused. "Other rifts? _Other_ universes?"

"Batarians - those are the blokes with four eyes?"

"Yes."

"Right. As far as other universes go, I'm not quite sure. It used to be that my people could stabilize things so that neither universe was in danger if a rift appeared. But I'm the last of my kind."

"Truly?" Mordin looked even more interested now.

"He's not a museum piece, Mordin," Shepard said dryly.

"Of course not." Mordin looked offended at the thought.

The Doctor sighed. "Yes. I'm the last. There was a war, between my people and the Daleks - the enemies I mentioned earlier, with similar goals to the Reapers. Well. From what I understand, the Reapers don't kill everything. They leave some organic species to flourish for the next … cycle?"

Shepard nodded. "Humans were around 50,000 years ago. Just not very advanced at that point."

"The Daleks really do want to be the only life form in the universe. And they have some ability with time travel as well - so the war wasn't just costing lives, it was tearing reality apart. Creating abominations, monsters that should never have existed." He looked down at the floor. "I ended it."

Shepard had seen that look before. "You killed them both," she said. "Destroyed your people and the Daleks alike."

"I had to."

Shepard walked over and laid a hand on the Doctor's shoulder. "I'm sure," she said gently. "You were saving the rest of the universe by doing so. It must have been a hard decision."

The Doctor looked up at her, and Shepard thought she understood him a bit better. When they'd first met, she'd thought how absurdly _young_ he looked. Then again, Tali, who was barely an adult by quarian standards, was one of the brightest and most competent people Shepard had ever met.

She'd been wrong about the Doctor. He was old. Maybe his people were like the asari, not visibly aging the way humans did. However it was, he might be the oldest person on the ship.

"I suppose," the Doctor said, "you would know something about that."

Shepard nodded. "Not on the same scale, but … I had to choose between saving the Council's ship, and saving Alliance forces. _Human_ forces. There are those," and her mouth twisted as she thought of that obnoxious reporter, "who say that I failed my species by saving the _Destiny Ascencion_. But I'm a Spectre. I can't be just a human. I have to look out for _everyone_."

"Also know something about that," Mordin said, then took one of his long breaths. He was going to start on the genophage, Shepard knew, and she shook her head quietly. There was time for that later. Mordin started, then nodded to Shepard in understanding.

The somber mood was broken by Mordin's attention-seeking cough. "Your ship. Possible to see?" He looked over his shoulder at a beeping instrument and reluctantly added, "Later?"

Shepard smirked as the Doctor's face lit up again. _He just loves showing off, doesn't he?_ "Of course, Professor Solus. It would be my pleasure to have you aboard when you have time."

"I'd like you to introduce yourself to a few more people onboard, sometime," Shepard commented. "Joker's our pilot. You might be able to trade tips with him."

The Doctor pulled a face. "Flying a TARDIS isn't really like flying a normal ship."

"Then I'm sure Joker would love to hear about it, since the Normandy's not exactly normal either," Shepard said. "You saw Miranda and Jacob briefly - they're both Cerberus people, but they've been useful. Zaeed and Grunt are down in the cargo area. Zaeed's human, and Grunt's a krogan. And Dr. Chakwas would probably appreciate anything you could do for the med bay. We seem to need patching up a lot."

"Following Shepard may be hazardous to your health," Mordin put in.

"There are lots of things I do that are hazardous to my health," the Doctor said. "So, nothing new."

Shepard just shook her head. "That ship of yours - is it okay to stay in the shuttle bay? It's not going to fly out when we take the shuttle out, is it?"

"No, no, she's much too stable," the Doctor said. "Besides, I can always put her down somewhere else temporarily."

"Then … welcome to the Normandy, Doctor."

"Do you know," the Doctor said, "I'm getting the sense I might actually like it here."


	8. Motivations

_2185_  
Normandy _SR-2_  
Illium 

Garrus looked up as the door to Port Observation slid open and Shepard walked in. Liara stood instantly from where she’d been sitting on the couch, beaming at the Commander. “Glad you could join us,” she said, slightly teasing. “It wouldn’t be a ‘first Normandy’ reunion without you.”

“I can spare as much time as you can,” Shepard said with a grin. “You were about to protest when the Doctor unceremoniously brought us here. I’d think you’d want to get back to work quickly.”

“Now that I’m here, I’m finding I don’t want to rush back,” Liara replied, sinking back onto the couch between Tali and Garrus.

“So, Shepard, what is this Doctor’s story?” Dr. Chakwas asked. She was sitting on the other couch, next to Joker. Garrus had been surprised to see Joker out of the flight deck, but he’d said that this was worth it. Besides, they were still docked, so he wasn’t needed at the moment.

“I heard a little bit about this police box, but - man! Talk about unbelievable,” Joker put in.

“Oh, it gets crazier,” Shepard said, taking a seat next to Joker. “He’s from another universe.”

“Get. Out.” Joker said, the first to break the silence. “Commander, are you sure this guy isn’t just completely nuts?”

“Joker, he showed up in a _magic blue box,_ ” Shepard said dryly. “You’re balking at ‘another universe’?”

“Well, when you put it like that…” Joker said.

Shepard sighed. “Let me see if I can simplify this. The box is a ship that can, theoretically, travel anywhere in space and time, although theoretically is the key since this universe plays by different rules than his own. The universe is very different from ours, no similar species except humans. He’s called a Time Lord, and his people are all gone, except him - he killed them at the same time he killed his people’s enemies, who were kind of like Reapers. Oh, and his ship is alive in some way. He wasn’t clear on that.” She paused. “There was a lot he wasn’t clear on.”

“This really does seem rather unbelievable,” Dr. Chakwas said.

“I saw inside his mind, Karin,” Liara said. She was one of the few people to actually call Dr. Chakwas by her first name. Of course, they’d spent a lot of time together on the first Normandy. “I don’t have any doubt.”

Dr. Chakwas shook her head. “I suppose I can believe you, at least.”

“Having traveled inside the aforementioned magic box, I find it easier to believe,” Garrus said. “Nothing I’ve ever seen is even remotely close to it. So the ‘other universe’ explanation fits as well as anything else I might try and come up with.”

“Wait - you said space and _time_?” Joker said. “So, time travel is possible?”

“I said theoretically, didn’t I?” Shepard replied.

“Aw, man, that would be so cool!” Joker exclaimed. “You could go and actually see all the important events in human history. Oh, and Liara, you could actually go talk to a Prothean!”

“Joker…” Shepard began.

“Come _on_ , Commander. You’re trying to tell me you can’t think of something cool you’d do if you could _travel through time_?”

“I’d want to see the end of the Unification War,” Garrus said. “Major turning point in turian history.”

“You already know where I’d go,” Tali said wistfully. “The homeworld, before we had to leave it.”

“Neil Armstrong,” Dr. Chakwas put in. “I’d want to see him land on the moon.”

“I admit, I would like to see the Prothean empire,” Liara said.

“See? Everyone can name something off the top of their heads,” Joker said triumphantly. “Well, Shepard?”

Shepard put her head down. “I’d try to find my parents,” she said softly.

Garrus felt like cursing Joker. Of course that would be what she’d think of. He walked over and put a hand on her shoulder, offering support. Shepard reached her hand up to cover his, the warmth of her bare skin seeping through his gloves. When she lifted her head, she was back to being her usual unflappable and solid self. Very like a turian, in fact.

“Right,” she said. “You all may have time to sit around and discuss flights of fancy, but I’ve got an assassin to recruit. Garrus, Tali - suit up.”

“I’m already suited,” Tali quipped.

Shepard grinned. “You know what I mean. And I’m sure it’s time for Liara to get back to work.”

“You should stay with us,” Garrus said. “Forget this information broker thing. You belong on the Normandy.”

Liara rose. “I can’t. I have work to do on Illium. But I will miss you all. It was good to be back here for a little while.” She looked over at Shepard. “I may have something else you can help me with. Drop by after you’re done tracking down this drell.”

“I will,” Shepard promised. “I’ll meet you all in the airlock in five.”

* * *

Shepard was seriously annoyed with Nassana Dantius. Her first dealings with the asari had left a sour taste in her mouth - she’d bought the sob story of the captured sister, and had kicked herself afterwards for it. Reporting Nassana’s actions to some appropriate asari authority had been on her list of things to do after she’d taken care of Saren - but she hadn’t gotten to it in the month following. The month before the destruction of the first _Normandy_. 

Working her way through the second Dantius Tower had lowered her opinion of Nassana even further. Every salarian worker that she encountered had raised her blood pressure. She had been glad to help them when she could - they deserved better than they’d gotten from Nassana. Shepard resolved to ask Liara about ways to help the salarians, especially the brothers Telon and Chesith.

She’d been skeptical about the wisdom of fighting through defenses set up by a paranoid asari just to get to one guy - but it was turning out to be a pure joy to demolish the defenses. They were _worth_ demolishing. Shepard had yet to meet a mech that had been on her side (except for the sabotaged YMIR back on Omega) and this was only the latest in a long line of instances where Eclipse mercenaries had been in her way.

Shepard took point as they headed to the roof. She ducked for cover when the LOKI mechs started shooting, and a moment later she heard the fizz and crackle of the mechs’ power being overloaded and them falling over, courtesy of Garrus and Tali. Then they ducked for cover as Eclipse mercs came out, surrounded by biotic blue glows that always indicated trouble ahead. Shepard switched to her pistol and focused fire on one of the mercenaries, taking out her barrier, then unleashed a series of shockwaves that knocked her off her feet - and kept her there. Tali had deployed her combat drone, and Shepard resisted the urge to grin as she heard Tali talking to the drone. It was unbelievably cute, and unbelievably Tali. Garrus was doing his best to take down the barriers and shields, paving the way for Shepard to use her biotics to charge forward, knocking them down before using her shotgun to finish them off. Of the new biotic tricks she’d picked up since being brought back from the dead, she liked it the best - though she had to be careful about not just putting herself in the midst of well-armed, uninjured enemies.

The three of them made short work of the mercs and pushed forward, picking up supplies from a med-kit that someone had left lying around. Shepard took point again as they passed through an opening around the corner. She saw a mercenary talking on the radio, not paying attention to his surroundings, and signaled for Garrus to take him down with a concussive round. The merc’s cry of surprise was cut off as Shepard slammed into him, still glowing with biotic energy. There were two more mercs nearby, but they didn’t have barriers up and she heard Tali encouraging her drone on. Shepard vaulted back over the concrete barrier and crouched, letting her amp recharge before she got back in the fight. She heard the mechs moving forward only to be stopped short by Garrus and Tali, and figured it was safe. Shepard popped back up to shoot at the container near two of the mercenaries, which exploded and finished the mercs off.

There was one mercenary left, sporting both a biotic glow and the orange-yellow of tech shields. Tali’s drone took the first strike, and once the barrier was extinguished both Tali and Garrus overloaded the shields down to nothing. Shepard reloaded her shotgun and charged in, knocking the asari down and filling her with pellets before she could recover.

“Almost to the bridge,” Shepard said as they strode forward. She noticed a submachine gun lying around and scanned it with her omni-tool. “Hm. This looks useful,” she said.

“How is it that you find these useful things wherever we go?” Garrus asked.

Shepard grinned. “Just lucky, I guess.”

As they approached the bridge, they were met with gunfire. Shepard saw a handful of mechs before she ducked behind an exhaust vent, Tali and Garrus joining her.

“I don’t care what you do, no one gets across that bridge!” Nassana yelled over a speaker.

“Like this is going to slow us down,” Garrus said, shocking one of the mechs.

“Hasn’t so far!” Shepard replied before popping up to send a series of shockwaves towards a group of mechs and mercenaries, knocking some of them over the edge.

“Watch the biotic!” Tali called, sending her combat drone in that direction and following it up with a couple of shotgun blasts.

Shepard noticed that the biotic’s barrier had faded and that she was the last one standing - which meant it was time to charge forward, knock her down, and follow that up with a shotgun blast of her own. She ducked behind another exhaust vent, anticipating that there would be more resistance before they got to the other tower. Sure enough, more mercenaries were running for them, trying to take down Garrus and Tali as they pushed forward.

“Pick ‘em off and keep pressing,” Shepard directed, switching back to her pistol to take down the barriers of an asari merc coming towards them.

“Rockets!” Tali said, ducking out of the way of one coming towards her.

“Garrus, can you take them out?” Shepard asked.

“Glad to,” Garrus replied, switching to his sniper rifle and chambering a round.

“Good. We’ll keep the heat off of you,” Shepard said, switching back to her shotgun and charging towards the next exhaust vent. She heard the rocket fly past above her and was glad she’d gotten the timing right. Another rocket launched as she dived for cover. She looked across the roof to see that Tali had also run forward, and nodded to the quarian. The rockets fired again, and Shepard popped out to shoot the nearest merc.

The next time, only one rocket fired. “Scoped and dropped!” Garrus crowed in triumph.

“One more,” Shepard said, ducking out to shoot at the mercs again. “Tali, focus on the asari. Take their barriers down.”

“Got it,” Tali replied, deploying her combat drone. More mercs were coming forward, and Shepard had to trust that Garrus and Tali would use their best judgment, because she fell into a rhythm that blocked out everything else: duck out, empty a thermal clip, duck back in, reload. She ran through the ammo on her pistol quickly and switched to the shotgun - the mercs were getting close enough to do some real damage. She didn’t even notice when the second rocket stopped firing. What did get her attention was Nassana Dantius’ voice.

“I’m sending in reinforcements! Finish them off!”

Garrus dropped into cover besides her. “Just a few left, Shepard. Asari, mostly.”

“Good. Let’s finish them,” Shepard said. She’d picked up a few ammo clips and reloaded her pistol. “Like we did before. Target one and bring them down.” She looked across to make sure that Tali had heard her instructions, and got a nod in response.

Shepard, Garrus, and Tali made short work of the rest of the mercenaries. “Now for Nassana,” Shepard commented as they walked towards the penthouse door.

When they walked inside, Shepard surveyed the situation. The asari was surrounded by Eclipse mercenaries that would be easy to take out. Nassana's face was a mixture of horror and shock, which was _quite_ satisfying under the circumstances.

"Shepard? But … you're dead!" Nassana exclaimed.

"I got better," Shepard replied. Behind her, she heard Garrus snicker.

Nassana moved forward warily. "And now you're here to kill me."

"You really are paranoid, aren't you?" Shepard asked.

"Don't patronize me, Shepard," Nassana said, turning her back on Shepard. _Not really a smart move._

"Charming as ever," Shepard quipped.

"I'm sure you find this all very ironic," Nassana said as she paced. "First you take care of my sister, and now you're here for me." She paused, then turned back to face Shepard. "Well, you made it this far. Now what?"

"You really think I'm here to kill you?"

Nassana sounded exasperated. "Do you have another reason for destroying my tower? Decimating my security?"

 _When you put it that way…_ "I'm just looking for someone."

"You expect me to believe that?" Nassana continued to pace. "Is it credits? Is that what you want? Just tell me your price. We can make this problem go away."

"All the credits in the world can't make this problem go away, Nassana."

One of the Eclipse mercenaries was waving her gun around. "What?" Nassana asked, annoyed.

"I heard something," the merc said.

"Damn it," Nassana said. "Check the other entrances."

 _Really paranoid_ , Shepard thought. But not without reason.

"You-" Nassana pointed at Shepard. "Stay put."

Shepard folded her arms and gave Nassana her best don't-mess-with-me stare. Behind all the mercenaries, a graceful figure dropped from the air vent to the floor, recovering in a moment. _So that's what a drell looks like,_ Shepard thought, watching him move. Green skin, patterned like an iguana's, large round eyes, and what looked like gills on his neck. None of the mercenaries had noticed him, and he started moving to dispatch them. Shepard was content to just watch.

"When I'm finished dealing with this nuisance, you and I are going to…" Nassana trailed off as she finally noticed that her bodyguards were being taken down. "Who-"

The bodyguards were dead, and Nassana had a pistol pointed squarely at her gut. The gun fired, and the drell caught her before she fell to the ground, laying her gently on the screens behind her. He crossed her arms over her chest. It was the oddest kill Shepard had ever seen - quick, efficient, and apparently also compassionate.

The drell took a step back, examined his work, and then bowed his head with his hands clasped together. Was he _praying_?

"Impressive," Garrus noted. "You certainly know how to make an entrance." Both he and Tali still had their weapons pointed at the newcomer.

Shepard stepped forward to get a better look at the drell. "I was hoping to talk to you," she said.

"I apologize," the drell said in a gravelly voice, "but prayers for the wicked must not be forsaken."

 _Really, at this point, I shouldn't be surprised by how_ weird _the folks I'm supposed to be picking up are._ "Do you really think she deserves it?" Shepard asked aloud.

The drell lifted his head, shaking it gently. "Not for her. For me."

Suddenly his behavior made a lot more sense. Didn't stop it from being weird, but it gave Shepard a bit of extra perspective she'd been missing a moment ago.

"The measure of an individual can be difficult to discern by actions alone," the drell continued, starting to walk around. "Take you, for instance. All this destruction … chaos." Shepard's gaze tracked him as he moved around to the front of the screens Nassana was laying on. "I was curious to see how far you'd go to find me." He paused, squarely in front of Shepard. "Well … here I am."

 _And we're back to confusing._ "How did you know I was coming at all?"

"I didn't," the drell replied. "Not until you marched in the front door and started shooting." He walked past Shepard to inspect Garrus and Tali. "Nassana had become paranoid. You saw the strength of her guard force. She believed one of her sisters would kill her. You," he said, "were a valuable distraction."

Shepard felt irrationally angry at him, all of a sudden. This whole thing was just seeming more and more needlessly complicated. "You used me. So you could kill her."

"I needed a diversion; you needed to speak with me," the drell replied calmly.

Shepard felt like sighing and shaking her head. Instead, she nodded to Garrus and Tali, who put their weapons away. She was satisfied that everything from here on out could be resolved with words.

The drell - Thane - turned to face Shepard. "You certainly fulfilled your end of the bargain. What would you like to discuss?"

The explanation was getting easier to give all the time. "Someone's been abducting entire human colonies. We're going to stop them. We already know the culprits - a race called the Collectors."

"I've heard of them," Thane said with a nod. "Attacking the Collectors would require passing through the Omega 4 relay. No ship has ever returned from doing so."

Shepard still got a twinge whenever someone said that aloud. Having died once, she wasn't particularly eager to do it again. She'd improve her odds however she could - work with anyone who would help her - but that was always in the background, that she might not make it. That she had no reason to expect to cheat death twice. But she wasn't about to let any of these strangers see that. She straightened herself up and said calmly, "They told me it was impossible to get to Ilos, too."

"A fair point," Thane acknowledged. "You've built a career on performing the impossible." He turned back to face the sunset, lowering his head slightly. "This was to be my last job. I'm dying." He left a pause there, as if it still weighed on him. "Low survival odds don't concern me. The abduction of your colonists does."

"I hadn't heard that," Shepard said softly. "Is there anything I can do?"

"Giving me this opportunity is enough." Thane paused. "The universe is a dark place. I'm trying to make it brighter before I die. Many innocents died today. I wasn't fast enough, and they suffered. I must atone for that." He turned to face Shepard, and extended his hand. She grasped it. "I will work for you, Shepard. No charge."

"Welcome aboard, Thane," Shepard said. “Let’s get back to the ship.”


	9. Ghosts of the Past

_2185  
_ _Normandy SR-2_

 The Doctor entered Starboard Observation to find Samara sitting, cross-legged, on the ground. He walked around to where he was facing her. “Hello,” he said.

“Doctor,” Samara acknowledged, unfolding her legs and standing up. “Are you all settled in?”

“For the most part,” the Doctor said. “I haven’t met everyone yet. Shepard suggested a few names to me, but I - wanted to come here first."

“I am sure I need to meet many of the same people,” Samara said. “However, I thought it might be wise to first spend some time in quiet meditation. This is a big change for me.”

“Yes,” the Doctor said. The silence stretched out for a long moment. “I owed you an explanation,” he finally said. 

“I am curious to hear it,” Samara replied.

“Actually, it might be easier to just - show you,” the Doctor said.

Samara looked puzzled. “You mean through connecting our minds? That is not usually how it works, Doctor."

“It worked with Liara T’Soni.”

Samara gave that some thought, then nodded. “All right.” She placed herself directly in front of him and closed her eyes briefly. When she opened them again, they had gone black.

Then the world went white around them. When it snapped back into focus, they were standing in a bare room, white as far as the eye could see.

“This is … unique,” Samara said. “It is almost more like melding with another asari than a human, but even then - different. Your mind is … focused. Clear is not the right word. Jumbled and confused, yes, but orderly. It should be a contradiction. But it is not. It is a chaos that I can make sense of."

“You’re powerful,” the Doctor said, in awe of the environment. “Focused and _strong_. This is … a canvas waiting to be painted.”

Samara seemed to ripple as she moved, turning to face him. “What is it that you wished to show me?” 

The Doctor lifted his arm as if to gesture, then thought better of it, lowering it to his side. Gallifrey came into focus, zooming forward from nothing to occupy the space around them. The Doctor’s hearts constricted as he saw the _splendor_ of it all again. “This is my planet,” he said. “It’s called Gallifrey.” The background didn’t change, but he _felt_ something pass into the air around them, and into Samara. Information as a tangible thing that could be passed. If only he could recreate this in other circumstances…

“I see,” Samara said after a long moment of absorbing the information. “You have had many faces. Lived many lives. That is … that cannot be an easy thing.”

“No, it isn’t,” the Doctor said. Around him, the ghosts of his past flickered into existence momentarily. Susan. Sarah Jane, both when she was younger and the last time the Doctor had seen her. Peri. Ace. Rose. Donna.

Amy and Rory.

For a moment, the pair of them were so clear and real he felt as though they had somehow stowed away on the TARDIS and were nearby, Amy’s ginger hair even moving a bit with a nonexistent breeze. They were holding hands and smiling at him. Samara’s gaze landed on them, and then the landscape flickered out entirely, back to formless white.

“The people whose lives you have touched,” Samara said.

“For better or for worse,” the Doctor replied. “Most of the time … worse.”

“You truly believe that,” Samara said. “They chose to come with you, and then to keep going.”

“Only because I gave them no choice,” the Doctor said. “What kind of idiot would turn down the kind of chance I was giving them?”

“And would they not argue that their lives are richer for it?” Samara asked. “You dwell on those with bad endings, but you also have those who went on to do marvelous things, who left of their own choice and _lived_ , Doctor.”

“It’s besides the point, anyways,” the Doctor grumbled. "I needed - someone else to understand. Just this once. Because you _can_ understand. Because asari lives are varied, and full, and rich, with the ability - the _expectation_ \- of going out and just seeing what's there. Because you truly are almost as old as I am, and -"

He paused as a scene came into focus around them. Their surroundings reconfigured themselves into an open chamber that the Doctor now recognized as a typical asari home. Two young asari were sitting on a couch, bearing a startling resemblance to Samara herself. Samara was speaking, but the words seemed to flow away before they could reach the Doctor's ears. In the blink of an eye, the compressed conversation came to him - the essence of what had passed, not every word. And it was just the words, too, with only a hint of the deep emotions that had been flowing through both sides.

_I am leaving._  
 _Why, Mother?_  
 _Your sister. I must find her._  
 _We need you, Mother!_  
 _Mirala is my responsibility. Those she kills are on my conscience. I must stop her. I can do nothing else._  

The scene faded away slowly as the Doctor turned to face Samara. "You showed me that," he said. "Why?" 

"Those were two of my daughters," Samara said. "You know that asari can meld - reproduce - with any other species. My daughters' fathers, to use the human terminology, were also asari. Since encountering other species, a stigma against purebloods has crept into asari society. My daughters - others like them - are part of the reason." She was standing straight and steady now, gazing out across the nothingness. "They are called Ardat-Yakshi. When they meld, it is painful to their partners, even deadly. Mirala - she calls herself Morinth now - ran rather than enter a life of seclusion, as Falere and Rila did. They are the three most powerful Ardat-Yakshi currently living. I have sometimes wondered if that is because my biotic abilities are strong, even for an asari of my age." 

She turned to face the Doctor. "What I showed you was a scene from four hundred years ago. That is how long I have been hunting my eldest child. Because Ardat-Yakshi only arise among pureblood partnerships, and I am also a pureblood, I took a great risk - I did not know how great - when choosing another asari as my partner." Samara's features softened slightly, a difference so small that the Doctor almost missed it. "But I love my daughters. My life is richer for having borne them. Falere and Rila are content in their monastery, with their life of seclusion, hurting no one - _choosing_ to hurt no one. Was I irresponsible in introducing dangerous children into this world, just to fulfill a maternal need?"

"You didn't know they would be dangerous," the Doctor said.

"Exactly so," Samara replied. "Just as you did not know when you brought your companions on board. But are there any of those whose company you would have forsaken? If you could do it again…"

"I'd take them with me," the Doctor replied. "Every one of them. Well. Maybe not Rory."

"You do not mean that."

"No. If only because Amy would be very cross with me." The Doctor let some of the tension he'd been carrying drain out. "Thank you, Samara." He paused a moment before looking back at her. “Have you seen them? Falere and Rila?”

“I - have been hunting my eldest child continually for four hundred years,” Samara said.

“Four hundred years,” the Doctor said, well aware of the irony of the situation, “is a long time not to see one’s family.”

“Yes. It is.” Samara paused again, and the landscape flickered to reveal the younger asari again. They were sitting together, both of them smiling.

“One of the responsibilities of a justicar is to conduct Ardat-Yakshi who have not yet melded with anyone to the monastery,” Samara said, her gaze firmly fixed on the images of her daughters. “We justicars are frequently in contact with one another. Others … have mentioned Falere and Rila. How they serve as mentors to some of the younger asari who come in. How they are frequently together, the best of friends as well as sisters.”

“I would imagine such knowledge gives you comfort,” the Doctor said.

“It does,” Samara said, turning away from the image and letting it fade. "Tell me about them. The young couple. Amy and Rory."

"What, you didn't pick that up from me?" the Doctor asked, trying to make a joke of it.

Samara turned her calm, serene gaze fully towards him, and it didn't take long for him to relent. "They are my dearest friends," he said. "I met Amy when she was a young girl. Then I left for twenty minutes and came back to a grown woman. She loves Rory. Fiercely. I - was very close to destroying that love." The pair of them were standing there again, but in Amy's arms was a cloth-wrapped bundle. Their heads were bent over the bundle. "Because of me, their child was taken away from them. Brought up to be a killer. A psychopath. They saw her grow up, all right, but not in the way that parents should. And now-"

The forms blurred again, and then River Song was standing there, smiling as if she was about to say _Spoilers,_ her frizzy hair going in all directions. He wanted to walk over and bury his hands in that hair, pulling her towards him, feeling his heartbeat increase as she looked up at him-

He swallowed. Banished the feelings. He’d had a lot of practice at that, after all. ”River Song. Melody Pond. We never got things in the right order, she and I. Sometimes she looks at me and sees - more than me. The me of the future. She trusts me in a way that few others have. Perhaps none. I have-" and he had to stop and swallow before continuing - "demanded blind faith, at times, from those who travel with me. River's faith is not blind. Or, well, it was, but _I_ had faith in _her_ in those instances. It balanced out." He stared at her image, her ghost, for a long moment, unwilling to banish it.

"You love her," Samara said quietly.

In this place, the space formed by his and Samara's minds, he could not bring himself to deny it. "I have never clearly articulated my feelings towards her," he said. "Never _truly_ expressed the complicated tangle inside me whenever she's around. I have tried to run from her, and not gotten very far."

"I would say that you should do that before you run out of time," Samara said, "but-"

"I will," the Doctor finished. "I know I will at some point. I know we are not done." He bowed his head, and the image of River faded. "It is one reason why I am here. I know my own future, a small portion, and what I know, I cannot change. Therefore - I will not die on this quest. I will return to my own time and place. And before I do that, I can stop the Reapers."

"With Shepard," Samara said.

The Doctor grunted. "She made that quite clear. Not used to being ordered about by someone else, but I'll … make it work."

"Because she deserves your respect."

"I'm not used to having someone finish my thoughts like that," the Doctor said, feeling a bit irritable. Donna ghosted in front of him again. "Don't ask me about her."

"No, I think that we have done enough," Samara said, closing her eyes again. The vivid reality of the Normandy snapped back into place around them. He could no longer feel her mind. No. He could feel it, but there was a distance now. He hoped there was some distance on her end. He disliked being an open book.

"I would like it if you would visit me again," Samara said, folding herself onto the floor.

He lied all the time. But he couldn't lie to her. She'd know. "I will try," he said instead.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> After a lot of indecision on how to split the next bit of the narrative, you'll be getting another character-focused chapter after this one before it kicks into high gear with the disabled Collector vessel. Enjoy!


	10. I Don't Do Guns

_2185_  
 _Normandy SR-2_  
 _Kodiak Shuttle_

Shepard exited the briefing room, rolled her shoulders backward, and then drew herself up straight. She couldn’t help but feel nervous about what the Illusive Man had just told her. She’d made a career of charging off into the unknown, but something about this seemed too easy. A turian ship just happened to damage a Collector vessel? The Illusive Man just happened to get this information at a time when he could send Shepard off to investigate?

The Illusive Man was too smart not to see the dangers in this, but all Shepard had gotten from him was confidence. Was that just his usual attitude of playing everything close to the chest, or was he truly not seeing how convenient this was?

Shepard shook her head. No use worrying about it now. 

“Coordinates punched in. Let’s go find us a Collector ship,” Joker said.

“Thanks, Joker. Can you have Garrus and the Doctor meet me in the armory?” Shepard asked.

“No problem, Commander,” Joker replied.

Shepard turned left for the armory and walked over to Jacob, who saluted her. “Commander,” he said.

Shepard crossed her arms and stared at him for a moment. “I’d like an explanation for your behavior back there on Illium,” she said finally. “What the _hell_ were you thinking, Taylor?”

Jacob winced. Good, that had struck home. “I - Miranda was going to shoot Niket-“

“Yes, and I was going to stop her,” Shepard said. “I didn’t want her to have that on her conscience. Niket could’ve given us more information about what Henry Lawson knows. But instead, you put a bullet in his chest, of your own initiative. I thought you knew better, Jacob. That was stupid and reckless. I’d have expected something like that from Zaeed, not you.”

Shepard watched as Jacob struggled with what to say to that, finally settling on, “Yes, Commander.” Which was probably the smartest thing he could have said.

“Go speak to Miranda,” Shepard said, and was a bit too happy to see the look of horror that flashed on Jacob’s face at that. “If _she_ tells me that you’re fit to come back, I’ll believe her. Until then, you won’t be coming on any missions with me. Dismissed.”

Jacob saluted, then turned to exit the armory. As he walked out, Garrus came in, walking over to stand next to Shepard. “I heard about what he did. Light a fire under his ass, did you?”

“Only a small one,” Shepard admitted. “I sent him to Miranda so she could finish the job.”

“ _Ouch._ You’ve got a devious mind, Shepard.” Garrus leaned back against the wall. “So what’s this about?”

“I’ll explain in a minute, as soon as -“ Shepard cut off as the armory door opened once more and the Doctor walked in. The human - no, _Time Lord_ \- looked around with a vague expression of distaste.

“Doctor. Settling in okay?” Shepard asked.

“Yes, fine,” the Doctor replied, waving a hand around and continuing to examine his surroundings.

“Good. I just got a tip from the Illusive Man about a Collector vessel that was damaged by a turian patrol and, apparently, abandoned,” Shepard said. “We’re going to check it out. Doctor, I assumed you would want to come with us, and that’s fine with me. However, I’m afraid I have to insist you be armed this time.” She opened one of the lockers and pulled out her pistol. “This is the M-6 Carnifex Hand Cannon. It’s one of my guns. Slow rate of fire, but each bullet packs a powerful punch. I think we’ve got enough time to fabricate one for you, but if not, I’m fairly confident Mordin would let you use his.”

“No,” the Doctor said.

Shepard had a bad feeling as to where this was going, but chose to act obtuse for the time being. “Not a pistol? All right, how about a submachine gun.” She placed the Carnifex down. “M-9 Tempest. Much more ammo. Good for suppressive fire.”

“No, I won’t take a gun,” the Doctor said, practically spitting the words out. Garrus looked on, amused. “I don’t do guns.”

“I have to tell you, you’re not going to get far with us if you take that attitude,” Garrus said. “All of us carry two weapons, at a minimum, wherever we go. It’s saved our asses in more than one situation.” Shepard suspected he was remembering their trip to Purgatory to get Jack.

“I don’t do guns,” the Doctor repeated. 

“Then what do you use to defend yourself?” Shepard asked.

“This,” the Doctor said, almost proudly, taking out a small metal object from his coat pocket. It was barely longer than his hand, and had a green light on its end. Shepard couldn’t begin to guess what it was. “My sonic screwdriver.”

Garrus coughed out a laugh. “ _Sonic screwdriver?_ That sounds like a drink you’d get at Afterlife.”

“Does it shoot laser beams?” Shepard asked, unable to keep a straight face despite her best efforts.

“This has gotten me out of more scrapes that you’ve ever been in, Commander Shepard,” the Doctor said, his expression completely serious.

That was, abruptly, too much. He just looked so _ridiculous_ standing there insisting he didn’t need a gun because he had a _screwdriver_ , wearing a tweed jacket with _a goddamn bow tie_. Both Shepard and Garrus burst out laughing. Shepard was doubled over thinking about how a little metal thing could _possibly_ be half as effective as a gun. 

When Shepard had regained control, she saw the Doctor standing there with his arms folded, looking serious. “Okay,” Shepard said. “I don’t really believe you, but - hell. I’ve tried to make you understand the risks, and if you won’t carry a gun, then that’s on your head, not mine.” She paused, wiping a stray tear from her face. “But will you at least take an omni-tool?”

“I’ve already spoken to Mordin about that,” the Doctor said with a decisive nod. “He’s got an extra one that he’s modifying for me.”

“Has he figured out what’s flammable or inflammable yet?” Garrus asked, which was _just_ amusing enough to get Shepard cackling again, and it wasn’t long before Garrus joined her.

“You’re a pair of wits, you two,” the Doctor grumbled. “This is the problem with soldiers. They always think with their guns.”

Shepard took a few deep breaths to try and regain control. “You don’t know me well yet, so I’ll let that slide,” she said. “But, anyway, I’ll come with you to see how Mordin’s doing on that omni-tool. Garrus, can you tell Grunt he’s coming with us? We’ll meet you both at the shuttle.”

“ _Grunt._ Oh, this should be fun,” Garrus replied, his mandibles flaring in amusement. 

“You’re bringing someone named ‘Grunt’. This is because I made that crack about soldiers, isn’t it?” the Doctor asked.

Shepard grinned. “Yup. I think you’ll like him, Doctor.”

* * *

The Doctor was put out that some of his rather tidy preconceptions were being shattered, but he supposed he should've expected that.

Take, for instance, the creature in front of him that responded to the name "Grunt". The Doctor had, apparently, taken the information Liara gave him about krogans and mentally lumped them in with Sontarans without a second thought. A belligerent and militaristic race that wanted to be a part of every war that existed, obsessed to the point of being somewhat comical and predictable.

The creature standing in front of him was not really like a Sontaran, physically, and the Doctor could already tell there was an attitude difference as well. The krogan was the single largest being that the Doctor had encountered since crossing the rift into this universe. He was a lumbering hulk of a beast, broad-shouldered and beefy, and the coloring of his - scales? - was almost pretty, slate blue-grey coloring over salmon pink. The Doctor was quite sure that he'd be snapped in half in an instant if the krogan was in the mood for it - physically strong and in no mood to tolerate fools. Still, no point in letting the krogan know that he was slightly intimidating. The Doctor had a lot of practice at hiding his feelings, after all.

"Hello, er, Grunt," the Doctor said, doing his best to look calm.

"Urdnot Grunt," the krogan replied. "Not Er Grunt. Never heard of clan Er. Maybe they became part of Urdnot. Sounds kind of similar."

" … Right," the Doctor said. "Well, anyway, it's, ah, nice to meet you. I'm called the Doctor."

"You can call him Grunt," Shepard called over her shoulder. "He's just still excited over being accepted as part of Clan Urdnot and wants everyone to know it."

"Urdnot Wrex is doing great things on Tuchanka," Grunt said. "I am proud to have him as clan leader. But I fight for Shepard. She is my battlemaster."

"Do krogan usually fight for others, then?" the Doctor asked.

"Wrex was a merc when he signed up with us," Garrus said. "He stayed on because he wanted to stop Saren. There's a lot of krogan who wander the galaxy as mercs."

"Wrex. Ah. Right. He was on the Normandy," the Doctor said, information finally seeping through to his conscious mind. "Now clan leader, you said. Well. Good for him."

Grunt took a minute to inspect the Doctor, walking around him, looking him up and down and frowning. "You are not in armor. And you carry no weapons. Are they … invisible?"

"Ah, no. I do not, in fact, have either weapons or armor. I don't need them."

Grunt frowned, an action that made the patterns on his forehead shift slightly. "I don't understand."

"He says he doesn't need them, and I'll believe him right up until he asks me for my gun to cover his ass," Shepard said, tossing a grin the Doctor's way as if throwing out a challenge. "One thing you will need, though-"

She fished in a nearby locker and brought out a mask. "Breather mask. Don't know what kind of atmosphere we'll find on the Collector ship. Best to be careful."

"Careful's not really in my vocabulary," the Doctor said.

Shepard sighed. "Yeah, I'm getting that. But _take_ the goddamn mask, will you?"

It was a small enough thing to do, and the Doctor nodded, accepting the breather mask and tucking it into his pocket.

"Now, were you planning to bring your ship?" Shepard asked. "We're taking the Kodiak-" she jerked a thumb at the shuttle behind them "- and you're welcome to ride along, but I didn't know what you'd planned for the, ah-"

"TARDIS," the Doctor supplied helpfully, nodding in that direction.

Grunt peered at it incredulously. "That's a _ship_? That's barely bigger than my tank!"

"I'll show you around sometime, Grunt," the Doctor promised. "But, to answer your question - No. I do not plan to bring the TARDIS on board. Unknown alien vessel, best to leave it behind."

"Sensible," Garrus said with a nod. "That it, Shepard?"

"Just about," Shepard said, leading the group over to the shuttle and pulling the door open manually. She was first inside, followed by Grunt and Garrus.

"Do you fly the shuttle, Shepard?" the Doctor asked, climbing onboard.

"For something like this, where we're not going far from the Normandy, there's a VI that pilots it," Shepard replied. "Sometimes we need to have a person piloting - when we're landing on a planet, for example, and there's a couple of painfully young Lieutenants that drew that duty. I expect you'll meet them at some point."

"I'll go check the input for the VI," Garrus said, entering the cockpit.

The Doctor settled himself in a seat, and Shepard grabbed one of the overhead handholds. She waited for Garrus to come back and take a seat before she began speaking. "EDI's scans say that the Collector ship is deserted and powered down. Our primary objective is to get as much intel on the Collectors as possible."

"It's completely powered down?" Garrus said. "I'd love to know how the turians managed that."

"Maybe we'll find out," Shepard replied.

"If you wanted intel, why did you have me come?" Grunt asked.

"Because I don't trust this situation," Shepard said. "It seems a little too neat, which means that I want some firepower backing me up in case something goes wrong."

Grunt grinned. "Heh heh heh. That's more like it. I hope that Harbinger guy shows up. I'll tear _him_ to pieces."

"Harbinger?" the Doctor asked. Nothing in the information he'd received from Liara seemed to be appropriate.

"There's still a lot we don't understand about the Collectors," Shepard said. "But there's at least one who's, somehow, able to possess others of his kind. Make them more powerful. And he likes to taunt me. Tell me that they're the 'harbinger of our destruction'. That's why we call him Harbinger. Don't know if that's actually his name, or if he even has a name." She sighed. "He calls me by name and says he's going to tear me apart."

"That is quite personal," the Doctor replied. "Been there a few times. Never gets easier."

The shuttle slowed, maneuvering in for a landing. "Helmets on," Shepard directed. "Mask for the Doctor. We don't know what we're going to find out there."

That, the Doctor thought, might be one of the most obvious things ever uttered in his hearing.


	11. The Collector Ship, Part 1: Discoveries

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'd like to acknowledge my friends Craggidor and AudaciumLux for their beta efforts :)

_2185_  
 _Disabled Collector Vessel_

The group exited the shuttle into a landscape of contradictions. At least, that was the Doctor’s first impression. They were standing on a rocky, uneven floor that abruptly transitioned into a surface as smooth and black as obsidian. Up ahead, the smooth walls were bisected with rocky formations, and the ceiling looked … like the inside of a hive.

“Never seen a ship like this before,” Grunt said, his cadence slowing slightly from his fast talk earlier. The young krogan was also in awe, it appeared. 

“Looks like a giant hive,” Garrus said, echoing the Doctor’s thoughts. “Rachni, maybe?”

“The rachni are dead, aren’t they?” the Doctor asked. “Except for-“

“The one queen, yeah,” Shepard replied. “Ah. Before I forget.” She pulled up her omni-tool and pushed a few buttons. “There. You’re linked into our comms, Doctor. Try not to get lost.”

“Thank you, Shepard,” the Doctor said. They started moving forward into the ship.

EDI’s voice came from the speakers on his omni-tool. “Penetrating scans have detected an access node to uplink with Collector databanks. Marking location to your hardsuit computer.”

“Roger that, EDI,” Shepard replied, pausing. “Okay. Grunt, got your shotgun ready?”

“Never without it,” Grunt said. “Ready to burn some Collectors.”

“Garrus, hang back and snipe anyone that looks like they’re getting too close,” Shepard said. “If we run into anything.”

“Understood.”

“Doctor … with me, I guess,” Shepard said. “I can cover you if things get hot, and I suspect you’ll have some insights to offer.”

“I can handle myself, Shepard,” the Doctor said, knowing that he sounded slightly petulant.

“If you’d carry a gun, I wouldn’t be so insistent about it,” Shepard replied. “Let’s move out.”

They took only a few more steps forward before EDI spoke again. “Shepard. I have compared the ship’s EM signature to known Collector profiles. It is the vessel you encountered on Horizon.”

“Maybe the defense towers softened it for the turians,” Shepard said, continuing to move forward. The Doctor had to work to keep up with the pace she was setting. 

“Maybe the missing humans are on it. Unless they’re dead,” Grunt said. 

“Horizon?” the Doctor asked, looking around at the other three.

“Where we first saw Collectors in person,” Garrus said. “A human colony that they were targeting. A ship - this ship, apparently - arrived to, well, collect the humans. The Alliance had recently installed defense turrets that we got working, and we chased the ship off.” The turian sighed. “We weren’t fast enough. They took about half the colony before we could do anything about it.”

Shepard paused by something that was fused to - growing out of? - the floor, near one of the rocky walls. “Huh,” Garrus said, coming up behind her. “These look like what the Collectors used on Horizon. Except they’re empty.”

The Doctor brought out his sonic screwdriver and activated it, the familiar green light tracing over the pod. Shepard watched him curiously. He held up the screwdriver and listened to the vibrations, watched the subtle shifts in the light. They likely thought he was just staring at it. “It’s been empty for quite some time,” the Doctor said. “Very minimal residual traces. Humans were in here, definitely.”

“I guess that thing isn’t so useless after all,” Shepard said. “Let’s keep moving.”

The path forward took them through a doorway, and they could see the hallway curving off to the left. In the corner formed by the curving hallway was a pile of - something. They stopped to inspect a pile of dead bodies, each of them expressing disgust over what they saw, before moving on.

When Shepard said “keep moving”, she really meant it, the Doctor thought as he walked - jogged, really - with her. The Doctor did his fair share of running, it was true, but he wished he had the chance to really observe the ship. There was so much that he could find out. But Shepard seemed to want to get in and out as quickly as possible, and he supposed that was reasonable. 

Shepard paused again at a row of pods interspersed with computer consoles. She walked up to one of the consoles and activated her omni-tool, presumably to interface with it. Garrus, still carrying his sniper rifle, leaned over and inspected one of the pods. “That’s a Collector,” he said, surprised. “Were they experimenting on one of their own?”

The Doctor joined him, bringing out his sonic screwdriver again and starting to take readings. The Collector’s body fit with the general insect vibe they were all getting from this ship, a thick brown and gray exoskeleton with multiple small limbs. It had four eyes - two roughly where a human’s would be, the other two set slightly back and above the larger set. 

Shepard reached up to touch something on the side of her helmet. “EDI. I’m uploading the data from this terminal. See if you can figure out what they were up to.”

“Data received,” the Doctor heard. “Analyzing.” He wasn’t getting anything from the screwdriver yet, but he kept at it. He wanted to beat the computer to a useful answer, if possible. 

“The Collectors were running baseline genetic comparisons between their species and humanity,” EDI said. _Blast._

“Collectors have a quad-strand genetic structure,” the Doctor said, peering into the light of his sonic screwdriver. “Not that similar to humans. But- it’s been tampered with. Extensive genetic rewriting. Someone was trying to achieve - what?”

“If the Collectors are working for the Reapers, that would make sense,” Shepard said. “From what Vigil said back on Ilos-“

The Doctor’s brain helpfully supplied him with images. Ilos. A dead world. They were chasing Saren ( _rogue turian Spectre, working for Sovereign_ ), and his trail lead them there. Vigil was a Prothean VI. He remembered Liara’s excitement when she heard that bit of information, though she’d been on the Normandy and hadn’t gotten to interact with Vigil.

“- the Reapers often work through intermediaries, manipulating organics to get what they want, through indoctrination or - well, whatever,” Shepard continued.

Another flash of images. His mother - no. Liara’s mother, Benezia, cowering on the floor in a lab on Noveria, talking about being trapped inside her own mind, doing only Saren’s will. The Doctor shuddered. Denial of free will was one of the things that _really_ made him angry.

“Shepard,” EDI said. “I have their preliminary results. The quad-genetic structure is present in only one other race: the Protheans.”

“My god,” Shepard said slowly. “The Protheans didn’t really vanish. They’re working for the Reapers now.”

“You said they work through intermediaries,” the Doctor said. “After the last cycle, they kept the Protheans alive, manipulating them so that they could use them when galactic civilization grew again.”

“What a horrible fate for them,” Shepard said. “Twisted and turned into monsters. A final insult after losing to the Reapers.”

“No species should have to suffer through that,” Garrus agreed.

“The Reapers have much to answer for,” the Doctor said, setting his mouth as he put the sonic screwdriver away.

“Let’s find what we need before the Collectors come to inspect the vessel,” Shepard continued. 

The Doctor finally noticed that while he, Shepard, and Garrus had been inspecting the console and pod, Grunt had kept his shotgun out and positioned himself so that he could see down both corridors. At Shepard’s words, he nodded - the only expression the Doctor could pick up through the hard masks all three were wearing - and took a step to the side to let Shepard take the lead again. In doing so, he apparently got a good look at something on the ground, because he put the shotgun away as he bent to look at it.

“A cache of weapons,” Grunt said, looking up at Shepard as she walked over to see what had caught the krogan’s attention. “Including my shotgun.”

“Your shotgun is something special, then?” the Doctor asked.

“Humans can’t handle it,” Grunt said. “Would break their arms the first time they tried.”

“ _Ordinary_ humans,” Shepard said, bending to look at the cache. “I’m not exactly ordinary any more.”

“You might be able to handle the kickback,” Grunt said, straightening up and taking his shotgun out again. “Don’t know what it’s doing here, but if I were you, I’d be taking it.”

Shepard picked up the shotgun that was so interesting to her and Grunt and examined it. “Garrus, want an Eviscerator?” she asked lightly.

“Nah, I’ll stick with my sniper rifle,” Garrus said, flaring his mandibles in what the Doctor guessed was amusement. “I prefer shooting from a distance. They never-“

“See you coming,” Shepard finished, chuckling. She handed the shotgun to Garrus while she unclipped one of her weapons from behind her back, emptying the ammo clip and leaving it in the pile. Garrus handed over the new shotgun and she loaded it, fiddling with a setting, before holding it out in front of her. “Let’s move out.”

As they moved forward, they were treated to the _delightful_ observation, from EDI, that many of the pods covering the ceiling contained humans, but there were no life signs. The Doctor looked up and tried to estimate how many humans had died on this vessel, and the number he came up with just made him even angrier.

The next time the silence was interrupted, it was by Joker. “Commander, you’ve gotta hear this,” he said earnestly. “On a hunch, I asked EDI to run an analysis on this ship.”

“I compared the EM profile against data recorded by the original Normandy two years ago,” EDI said. “They are an exact match.”

“So this is the ship that blew the first Normandy out of the sky,” the Doctor said. “Can we call this a trap, yet?”

“This has definitely moved out of the realm of coincidence,” Shepard agreed. “But we have to keep going. We don’t have enough intel yet - and it looks like we’re still alone. Not saying I buy that, necessarily.”

“We’re right behind you, Shepard,” Garrus said.

“It would be disappointing not to get to shoot something,” Grunt added.

The Doctor finally got the difference between a Sontaran and a krogan. A Sontaran would never miss a war. A krogan would never miss a _fight_.

* * *

Shepard was decidedly unnerved by the time they got to a place where they could link up with EDI. To get to the platform with the control panel, they’d had to pass through a vast open area where the ceiling was filled with pods - too many for Shepard to even begin contemplating. The sense of wrongness had only increased with Grunt’s observation that, aside from the one in the pod, they hadn’t seen a single dead Collector. Unless their bodies magically vanished when they died (and Shepard hadn’t observed that on Horizon) they _should_ have been there. The fact that they weren’t was still more evidence that this was one big, giant trap.

And she was still walking into the middle of it.

Shepard holstered her new Claymore shotgun as she walked up to the command console, nodding to Garrus and Grunt to keep an eye out for trouble. The Doctor was by her side. He’d demonstrated his value here more than anywhere else, and she was hoping he’d have further insights to pass to her.

She touched the mic in her helmet. “EDI, we’re at some sort of command console. I’m setting up a bridge-“

“Let me see what I can find, first,” the Doctor said before she could finish the sentence. Shepard looked over at Garrus, who shrugged.

“All right. Stand by, EDI,” Shepard said, stepping aside to let the Doctor inspect the console.

“Thank you, Shepard,” the Doctor said, pulling out the - what was it again? Oh yeah, _sonic screwdriver_ \- and doing … whatever it was the thing did.

“Right, you definitely should _not_ have EDI interface with this,” the Doctor said after a minute.

“Why?” Grunt asked.

“It’s a trap, isn’t it?” Shepard asked with a sigh.

At that moment, the lights on the command console blinked out, and the tubes spaced along the stone walls began to slide - open? closed? Shepard couldn’t quite tell.

“Yes, definitely a trap,” the Doctor said. “They tried to hack my screwdriver. Hah. I’ll show _them_.” He picked it up, tossing it from one hand to the other, then bent over the command console and turned the screwdriver back on. “If I can just - disable that -“

“Company!” Garrus called, noticing movement behind him and swinging his sniper rifle around.

The platform they were on shuddered, and then lifted, starting to rotate away from the ground.

“Oh no you don’t!” the Doctor said, gripping the screwdriver with both hands. “Come on- come on-“

The platform stopped, and then fell back into place with a hard _thud_ that had everyone falling to the ground. 

“There,” the Doctor said. “Won’t move again.” The platform groaned as it twisted to fit back in the space it had previously occupied.

“… won’t move again after that.”

“You sure about that?” Shepard asked indignantly.

“No, this time, it’s staying put. Now, I have to clear the virus out of the system. Once that’s done, it should be safe for EDI to interface with the databank.” The Doctor looked over his shoulder to see another platform come flying in. “I think this is the part where you shoot things.”

“Or knock them the hell over,” Shepard said, expressing her anger and fear for only a moment before locking it down and preparing to fight. She ducked behind one of the platform’s edges, Grunt right besides her. Garrus had retreated further back, but she noted he hadn’t left the platform entirely.

“Don’t let them get near the Doctor,” she called to the two of them. “Garrus, try and pick off anyone with a barrier so that Grunt and I can finish them.”

Shepard spared one moment to hope that the Doctor really did know what he was doing before her amp started humming and her entire body flared blue, charging forward and knocking one of the drones off the second platform. She followed the charge up with a shotgun blast to her right, hitting another drone. She heard a _thunk-thunk-thunk_ coming towards her, and rolled out of the way just in time to avoid the Scion’s blue blasts. Damn. Those things were hard to kill. 

“Grunt, I’m going to take out the Scion, so keep the drones off of me,” she yelled to the krogan, holstering her shotgun and pulling out the Collector weapon she’d grabbed on Horizon. She’d found it to be an effective weapon when she needed to take out something tough. Shepard took a couple of deep breaths to steady herself, waited for the next series of blasts from the Scion to pass, and then popped out of cover to click on the Collector beam and aim it at the Scion. The one time she’d been close enough to one of those to see it, she’d instantly regretted the sight - it looked like the Collectors had just jammed multiple husks together and added a blue bulbous covering at the ‘shoulder’. It was a misshapen monster and it almost made her want to throw up. Luckily, she’d dealt with the battlefield gag reflex a long time ago.

Shepard kept shooting, ducking in and out of cover as needed, until the Scion fell over, at which point she switched back to her shotgun and tried to reassess the situation. Most of the drones were dead, but there were still a few-

_“ASSUMING DIRECT CONTROL.”_

_Shit._ Harbinger had decided to put in an appearance.


	12. The Collector Ship, Part 2: Harbinger

_2185_   
_Disabled Collector Vessel_

 The Doctor looked up from the battle he was waging against the Collector computer at the sound of someone other than Shepard, Garrus, or Grunt speaking. His mind cast back to what Shepard had said on the shuttle, about one of the Collectors possessing others. So, this was Harbinger. He needed to see this for himself.

He stood up, ignoring Garrus’ yelp of “Get _down!_ ” and strode forward.

“Doctor! What the hell do you think you’re _doing_?!” Shepard shouted.

“ _AH. THE ONE CALLED THE DOCTOR IS HERE.”_

The Doctor looked at the Collector who was now Harbinger, who seemed to glow from within as though he was about to explode, jagged cracks of orange-yellow light seeping through his exoskeleton. “So. _You’ve_ heard of me.”

“ _YOUR ARRIVAL WAS ANTICIPATED.”_

“Which means that you can somehow see through the rift, hmm? Or did you create it?” the Doctor asked, striding forward confidently, continuing to ignore the shouts from the others. He knew what he was doing. Probably. “From what I understand, it might not be outside of your capabilities. You live in dark space outside the galaxy - what’ve you found in the fifty thousand years since you killed the Protheans?”

“ _WE DID NOT CREATE THE RIFT. WE MERELY FOUND WHAT WAS ON THE OTHER SIDE.”_

“So you wipe out this universe, as you’ve done before, and then move onto the next one? Is that your plan?” The Doctor came to the edge of the platform that the others were on, looking up at the platform Harbinger was standing on. He was surrounded by dead Collectors and something that looked absolutely _monstrous_ , and that was saying something given what else he’d seen and heard today.

“He’s not shooting. Why isn’t he shooting?” the Doctor heard Garrus ask, from behind him.

“I don’t know, but keep your head down,” Shepard hissed through her teeth. “And your voice, too!”

_“THE NEXT ONE, AND ALL ONES AFTER THAT. ALL ORGANICS WILL KNOW THEIR DESTINY. ALL ORGANICS IN ALL UNIVERSES.”_

“And what destiny would that be?” the Doctor asked, shouting. “What do you _want_? Why collect these humans? Why do _any_ of this? Why is it that you feel the need to wipe out species every fifty thousand years?”

_“YOU DO NOT YET COMPREHEND YOUR PLACE IN THINGS.”_

“Right. So you’re not going to answer, then.” The Doctor was starting to feel frustrated. It was to be expected, but he wished he could have gotten more. They _always_ gave nonsensical answers.

_“YOU CANNOT STOP US.”_

“Oh, really?” The Doctor stepped up onto the edge of the platform, glaring at the thing’s face. “You just _watch_ me.” He lifted his sonic screwdriver and pointed it at Harbinger, hearing it charge up.

_“DESTROYING THIS BODY GAINS YOU NOTHING. WE WILL MEET AGAIN, DOCTOR.”_ The Collector body exploded outwards from where the light was seeping through, motes falling into the abyss below. The Doctor couldn’t tell if it had been from his screwdriver, or if Harbinger had just … self-destructed. 

He hopped backwards onto the platform’s floor and looked over at Shepard, who was standing and holstering her shotgun. “That was … interesting,” she said.

“You could say that,” the Doctor replied. “He knew me.”

“Yeah,” Shepard said, nodding. “I wonder how.” She looked back at the control console. “Did you disable the - virus? Or whatever it was?”

“I think so.” The Doctor touched his omni-tool. “EDI. This is the Doctor, can you hear me?”

“Yes, I can,” EDI replied. “Are you ready to establish the link?”

The Doctor held out his omni-tool, marveling for a moment at how it glittered just above his skin, then squinted at the buttons. “Ah…”

“Let me,” Shepard said, bringing up her omni-tool. “Setting up a bridge.”

A hologram of what the Doctor supposed was EDI’s chosen form came into existence over the console. “Data mine in progress,” EDI said. “The Doctor has successfully eliminated the Reaper virus. I have control. Thank you, Doctor.” She paused, then spoke again. “Shepard, I found the turian distress call that served as the lure for this trap. The Collectors were the source. It is unusual.”

“Well, it’s obvious that the initial message was bait,” Shepard said. The Doctor saw Garrus and Grunt coming to stand besides her. “What’s unusual about that?”

“Turian emergency channels have secondary encryption,” EDI said, and Garrus nodded at that. “It is corrupted in the message. It is not possible that the Illusive Man would believe the distress call was genuine.”

“What makes you so sure about that?” the Doctor asked, putting both his hands on the console and leaning forward to stare at the hologram. 

“I found the anomaly with Cerberus detection protocols. He wrote them.”

“He knew it was a trap?” the Doctor heard Joker say, over the turian and krogan curses coming from behind him. “Why would he send us into a trap?”

Shepard’s face hardened - the Doctor thought that if the man in question had been in front of them, she might have tried to kill him barehanded. “That _son_ of a _bitch._ I _knew_ we couldn’t trust him. He’s got a lot to answer for once we get back to the Normandy.”

“Shepard. The Collector ship is powering up,” EDI said. “I recommend returning to the Normandy. I have found data about the Omega-4 relay, which I will share upon your return.”

“Get out of there before their weapons come online!” Joker said.

“Don’t need telling twice,” Shepard said intently, pulling out her shotgun. “Double time, people!”

“Sending coordinates for shuttle extraction,” EDI said. “I will do what I can to assist.”

“Is there anything I can-“ the Doctor stared to say, before he was interrupted by Grunt, who grabbed him by the arm and started hauling him along.

“Shepard said _move_ ,” the krogan … grunted. “Can’t move and help at the same time.”

“Grunt, that’s enough,” Shepard said, and Grunt reluctantly released the Doctor. “He got the message.” 

The Doctor glared at Grunt, who was already moving forward, and sprinted after the group.

“Around the corner. Take the door on your right,” he heard EDI say through his omni-tool as he caught up to Shepard. She had her shotgun out again and was scanning the area. They came down an incline into an open area just as the Collectors did, flying in from some unknown height to land and start shooting at the party. The Doctor jumped out of the way just in time to avoid one of those beam weapons Shepard had brought out earlier. As he got to his feet, he saw Shepard start glowing bright blue. And then-

She simply wasn’t there any more. The Doctor yelled, but then saw that her path had taken her directly _in_ to one of the Collectors, knocking it over. Some sort of biotic trick, then.

The yell had drawn the attention of one of the Collectors, who shot at him, and the Doctor ducked, fumbling at his omni-tool, trying desperately to remember what Mordin had shown him-

He saw a curving beam of orange light leaving a trail in the air, sailing right over the Collector’s head. Well, at least he’d gotten something out of it. The Doctor pulled out his screwdriver and pointed it at the Collector, but it was already dead by someone else’s hand. He looked around and saw that they were all dead.

“Keep moving!” Shepard yelled at him before ejecting a clip and moving down the corridor, once again forcing the Doctor to sprint to keep up. Bullets started flying as soon as they entered the next open area, with Collectors coming from the air as well as the other entrance. _This_ time, he would see what the sonic screwdriver could do to a Collector.

* * *

Shepard had no time to see how the Doctor was doing. She barely had time to give instructions to Grunt and Garrus, settling for giving a nod to Grunt as he settled in behind the low edge across from hers. “Focus fire,” she called to the krogan before standing up and shooting at one of the drones - noticing that Grunt was shooting at the same drone, which showed he’d gotten the message. Good. 

One of the Collectors staggered backwards, a faint glow vanishing, and she knew that Garrus was following her instructions from earlier. She and Grunt followed through, filling the Collector full of shotgun pellets - flaming ones, in Grunt’s case.

“Cover me!” she shouted to Grunt, and felt her amp start to hum. An instant later she was knocking over a Collector, blasting it with the Claymore to make sure it _stayed_ down. She looked off to her left and to her astonishment, saw the Doctor there, up a small rise. He was behind a wall, at least, but still too exposed for Shepard’s liking. He had his screwdriver out in front of him, both hands on it, pointed at a Collector. Shepard heard a high-pitched whine and the Collector dropped his gun. Shepard tracked the gun and saw that it was smoking.

_Huh._ She had little time to ponder this new development, except to register that he wouldn’t need to be watched quite as much anymore. Instead, she shot the now-defenseless Collector before moving on to the next one.

Then, from in front of her-

_“ASSUMING CONTROL OF THIS FORM.”_

Harbinger was back.

* * *

The Doctor was pleased that he’d been able to do something with the sonic screwdriver. Under different circumstances, he’d be turning around and trying to find another way out, except that EDI was already doing her best to give them a path of least resistance and there likely _was_ no other way out. He was trying not to think too hard about the number of bullets his new allies were using. It wasn’t as though they were shooting defenseless civilians - this was an alien race that was not interested in negotiation or compromise. He destroyed Daleks all the time. 

… _Except that when the other you blew them all up, you called him a genocidal lunatic._

_Let’s continue this argument when we’re not in mortal danger._

_“DIRECT INTERVENTION IS NECESSARY.”_

Ah. Harbinger had chosen to make another appearance. The Doctor wondered if his little trick earlier had actually been effective, or if Harbinger had simply chosen to retreat after delivering his threats. He decided he would try to answer that question, pointing the sonic screwdriver at Harbinger. He saw Harbinger’s weapon start smoking, and Harbinger wheeled its head around to look at the Doctor. The smoke evaporated as though it had never been there.

_“THIS IS WHAT YOU FACE, DOCTOR.”_

Harbinger’s right arm moved, and a shimmering ball of light came hurtling at the Doctor, knocking him backwards. He hit the wall with a hard thud and shook his head as he got back on his feet. He pointed the sonic screwdriver at Harbinger again - to no effect.

_“YOUR ATTACK IS AN INSULT.”_

“You’re making this personal,” the Doctor said between deep gasps. “You really don’t want to do that. I am the Oncoming Storm. I am the _last_ person in the universe you want as an enemy.”

_“THIS IS NOT YOUR UNIVERSE. IT IS OURS. YOU CANNOT STOP US.”_

“You said that already,” the Doctor replied. “I’m still here.” He pocketed the sonic screwdriver - reluctantly - and brought up his omni-tool-laden left arm. He shot off a flash of orange light at the same time that Harbinger unleashed another of those shimmering balls, and the Doctor fell to the floor again. 

_“PITIFUL.”_ Harbinger’s voice was getting closer. The Doctor tried to struggle to his feet, and failed. _No. It doesn’t end here. It can’t. It just … can’t._

Something bright and blue flew over the Doctor’s head - Shepard. Through barely opened eyes, the Doctor saw Harbinger stagger back. Shepard brought her shotgun around to blast Harbinger, then began to glow blue again.

_“THIS CHANGES NOTHING, SHEPARD.”_ The body that Harbinger had been holding disintegrated into nothing again. The Doctor sagged against the floor.

“Hang on, Doctor,” Shepard said, pressing her omni-tool to his side. All at once he felt heat and warmth racing through him, his pain gone, his energy restored. Shepard’s omni-tool disappeared and she offered him her hand, which the Doctor took.

“How did you do that?” he asked.

“Medi-gel,” Shepard said. “It’s universal. Works on every species in the galaxy. Mordin forwarded your scan data to my omni-tool.”

“I … thank you, Shepard,” the Doctor said.

“Don’t do something stupid like that again,” Shepard said, her voice turning steely. “Harbinger knocks _me_ on my ass, and I’m _wearing armor._ ”

“No promises,” the Doctor said, offering her a smile. Shepard just sighed and dropped his hand.

“Let’s go before they show up again.”

Naturally, there was another group waiting for them right after EDI tried to help them by opening a door. The Doctor saw something hovering above the ground, moving towards them - it almost looked like a manta ray, except that it clearly had a hard exoskeleton, and it had multiple legs dangling below its main body. 

“Praetorian!” Garrus cried, a second before it shot a beam of energy directly towards the group. Everyone was in cover before they could get hurt, including the Doctor. He eyed the beam weapon that Shepard was bringing out. He’d disabled it before - it hadn’t worked on Harbinger, who was clearly the boss here. So what if-

“Shepard. I want to try something.”

Shepard eyed the sonic screwdriver skeptically. “Didn’t that cause one of these to get set on fire before?”

“I was trying to disable it. I think I can also enhance it.” 

“Think, or know?” Shepard asked urgently. “It’s the best thing I have to use against the Praetorian.”

“Trust me, Shepard,” the Doctor said softly. “Please.”

Shepard reluctantly nodded. “All right. Quickly. The thing’ll be on us any moment.”

The Doctor ran a finger over the buttons of his sonic screwdriver. This one - no. The other one. Yes. If he tapped it just so-

The beam weapon in Shepard’s hands glowed brightly. “Try it,” he said to her.

Shepard listened before standing up and clicking the beam on. The Praetorian had moved closer - the Doctor could make out some of the detail on its ‘face’, the multiple eyes above - oh. There were _skulls_ there. Shepard fired.

The Praetorian exploded from its midsection out, blue light flooding the area as it screamed its death-cry. Pieces flew everywhere, limbs skittering across the floor, the head crushing an approaching humanoid - _a husk._

“Hahaha!” Grunt shouted. “Finally, that stupid thing of yours does something useful!” He blasted another husk that had come up near them, then turned and fired upon another one.

“That all of them?” Shepard asked. 

“That’s it,” Garrus said, and without any further discussion, they moved towards the door that EDI had opened for them. They were silent as they ran through the hallways - the only sound the Doctor could hear was his hearts pumping at the excitement of everything that had happened. Up another ramp they went, and just as they rounded a corner, they saw more humanoids pouring in to the space they had just passed through.

“Run!” Shepard yelled, as the humanoids were joined by Collectors. The Doctor decided he didn’t need to know if Harbinger was there, again, or not. Shepard spun around, shotgun firing rapidly, but the humanoids didn’t seem to be deterred by the fact that they were approaching certain annihilation. Grunt fell back slightly to join her while Garrus and the Doctor ran ahead.

The Doctor heard Joker’s voice from his omni-tool, only vaguely catching the words. Of course they were running out of time. He was _always_ running out of time. 

The screams from the humanoids - _husks_ \- increased in pitch and volume, and the Doctor saw that he and Garrus were about to run into yet another group. Adrenaline lent him the focus that fear had not, and his left arm flew up, gleaming orange, to unleash a burst of flame. _Those poor creatures._ He wished he had another way, any other way, but there simply wasn’t one. All he could do was acknowledge that they’d deserved better and keep moving. To his side, he saw Garrus switching the sniper rifle for something that proved to have a faster rate of fire. The Doctor’s right hand went into his coat pocket, coming out with the sonic screwdriver. He wanted to see if it had any effect on these husks - they looked to have some sort of wiring, circuits, running through their bodies. _Synthetics_. That was the jargon of this universe.

The Doctor pointed the sonic screwdriver at one of the husks, and felt some satisfaction when the creature fell over, screaming in pain. The Doctor repeated the gesture - quickly felling a string of them, clearing a path for himself and Garrus to advance. Behind them, he heard footsteps. Garrus wheeled, then relaxed - and a moment later Shepard and Grunt joined them. The group moved forward quickly, the cries of husks behind them serving as a powerful impetus. That, and the knowledge that the ship was about to power up.

Finally, they reached the shuttle. The door opened for them as they approached it, practically throwing themselves inside. Shepard was the last one in, the door closing after her. 

The Doctor looked out the window as the shuttle pulled away from the Collector ship, and for the first time he felt like he truly appreciated its magnitude. The Normandy was dwarfed next to the massive vessel, and it wasn’t hard to see how it could have been blown out of the sky by one of these. The shuttle accelerated, maneuvering through space flotsam before entering the cargo bay.

“Strap in, people, going to make them work for it this time,” Joker’s voice came over the loudspeakers. Shepard was out and running as soon as the shuttle’s door opened again. The Doctor was not in such a hurry, casting a glance over at his TARDIS, satisfying himself that all was as he’d left it. He followed Garrus and Grunt to the elevator.

“Where will she be?” he asked.

“I’d imagine she’ll be going to the briefing room to speak to the Illusive Man,” Garrus said. “It’s on the second floor, behind the bridge.” The turian paused. “You’ll be wanting to join her?”

“Absolutely,” the Doctor said. “I need to have a few words with him.”


	13. Not Very Illuminating

_2185_  
 _Normandy SR-2_

Shepard didn’t fully relax until she heard Joker and EDI confirming that they had successfully entered the mass relay and were getting the hell out of the system. Even then, some part of her was expecting that Collectors could (somehow) follow them through the relay and blast them on the other side. Which was completely ridiculous - but it was that kind of day.

She stalked towards the Briefing Room, not entirely sure when the Illusive Man would be available but having no real desire to do anything than pace, and stew, and wonder if it really was possible to flay someone alive with your mind - and if it was possible, the best way to do it.

Shepard plowed through the tech labs - Mordin didn’t appear to have noticed her - and stopped short when she saw the Doctor leaning against one of the walls. He pushed himself up and gave her a tight smile. “Commander Shepard.”

“Let me guess. You’re looking to give the Illusive Man a piece of your mind as well,” Shepard said.

“Indeed. I’ve got rather a lot of unanswered questions at this point.” Shepard noticed that his jacket looked, somehow, none the worse for wear despite having been hit by Harbinger’s biotic attack. Stupid thing to wonder about.

“So do I,” Shepard said, sighing as she leaned back against the wall. “He’s in the habit of not answering them fully. I’m betting that’s not going to change.”

“Call coming in from the Illusive Man, Commander,” Joker said, and Shepard snapped up straight, preparing for action. “Figure you’ve got a few words for him. At the least.”

“Thanks, Joker,” Shepard said, and walked into the Briefing Room. The Doctor followed her, watching closely as Shepard pushed the button that sank the table into the floor, bringing up the holographic transmitter for the QEC. She walked forward and heard the scans kick in, turning to gesture the Doctor forward. “This is the way he prefers to communicate. I’ve never actually met him in person. As far as I know, Miranda’s the only one who has.”

“I’ll be wanting to change that, at some point,” the Doctor commented as he stepped up besides her. His expression flashed to wonder for a moment as he bent, inspecting the machinery. “Full-body holographic scans. Interesting.”

The scans kicked in, and Shepard was once again virtually transported to the Illusive Man’s office. It was somewhat unfair, she thought, that she’d never been there in person. The view was spectacular, as one might expect from the office of a man with a god complex and virtually unlimited resources. It had a direct view of whatever dying star the base was orbiting, the surface a constantly changing mix of burnished orange and steel blue. 

“Shepard.” The Illusive Man’s gaze flicked to the man standing beside her. “And the Doctor, I presume. I’m glad you decided to help.”

“The Illusive Man,” the Doctor replied, folding his arms across his chance in an - unconscious? - echo of Shepard’s own stance. “You have much to illuminate.”

“Been saving that one?” the Illusive Man asked, a hint of humor in his voice as he took a drag on his cigarette.

“Yes, actually. But!” The Doctor raised a hand. “Besides the point. You _found_ me. You _knew_ of me. No one else in this universe does, except the being called Harbinger. I’d like to know _how.”_

Shepard had questions - accusations - but she felt no need to interrupt the Doctor, bull-rushing over him with her own fury. To be frank, she wanted answers to those questions as well, given what she’d learned about where the Doctor came from.

“Legends. Rumors. I was half-convinced I was chasing a ghost until I got you on the phone,” the Illusive Man replied. “I was putting out feelers for anyone that might be able to help Shepard - and got stories of you that I couldn’t corroborate, which I found fascinating. Stories of you being present during many of the pre-spaceflight conflicts, but nothing in the actual record. The conspiracy theories from the twenty-first century mention a benevolent alien who fits the description of you I found in other sources. But the stories that fascinated me the most came from _other_ races. You were seen on Rannoch, before the quarians created the geth. On Tuchanka and Khar’shan, where humans are generally not welcome.”

“Really,” the Doctor said, keeping his voice even. Having been to Tuchanka and talked to a few batarians, Shepard wasn’t surprised that a sighting of the Doctor on those worlds was big news. And he’d been seen on Rannoch? Shepard wondered if that had anything to do with Tali. “I’m not convinced that all of those stories happened in _this_ universe.”

The Illusive Man frowned. “I’m afraid you’ve lost me.” 

“I mean that I’m from a parallel universe,” the Doctor said, continuing to pace. “I came here through a rift in time and space. In my universe, there are plenty of stories that are similar to what you’ve mentioned - but I’ve only been _here_ since your call telling me to go to Illium.” He paused, narrowing his eyes at the Illusive Man. “How’d you find me, anyways?”

“I had Cerberus scanning for unknown alien tech to try and pick up Collector signatures,” the Illusive Man replied. “Your - ship - came up during one of those scans. I connected the dots. Gave you a call.”

The Doctor frowned, starting to pace again, his lips taut.

The Illusive Man inhaled on his cigarette and shifted his gaze to Shepard, taking the Doctor’s silence as a cue to change topics.”EDI sent me the preliminary data you extracted from the ship - with the Doctor’s help. It looks quite interesting.”

Shepard looked over her shoulder to see that the Doctor had halted the pacing, standing at the edge of the holographic field. He gave her the slightest of nods, and she squared her shoulders as she turned to face the Illusive Man. “EDI told us the distress call originated from the Collectors,” she said angrily. “You betrayed us.”

“We’re at war. The Collectors are taking humans, and every minute we waste is one more we give the enemy to prepare,” the Illusive Man said firmly. 

“I _know_ the stakes,” Shepard said, exasperated. Didn’t she hear it all the time? Didn’t she _say_ it all the time? “But we’re supposed to be on the same side. How can I trust you if you feed me what you know is bad information, and it leads us into a trap?”

“Yes, it was a trap, but I was confident in your abilities,” the Illusive Man replied, standing up to look Shepard squarely in the eye. “And you had EDI and the Doctor to help. The Collectors weren’t anticipating them.”

“Except that they knew me,” the Doctor said, re-entering the conversation. “Harbinger noted that my arrival was _anticipated_.”

“Maybe they found the same rumors I did,” the Illusive Man said. “Or maybe they somehow saw through to your universe. They’ve been around for hundreds of millions of years.” He waved a hand. “That’s besides the point. You made it out.”

“It was an unnecessary risk, not telling me,” Shepard said. “There are always alternatives.”

“You may not like being on the receiving end - neither would I - but the facts,” the Illusive Man said, pacing slightly, “are with me. Besides, the decision paid off. EDI confirmed our suspicions.” He sat down and lit another cigarette, inhaling on it before continuing. “The Reapers and Collector ships use an advanced Identify Friend/Foe system that the relays recognize. All we need to do is get our hands on one of those IFFs.”

Shepard resisted the urge to snap that they’d just _left_ a Collector ship that had one of those. EDI might be fast, but she’d been multitasking quite a bit to help them get off the ship. “I’m guessing,” she said, keeping her voice firm, “that you have a plan.”

“There’s a science team working on a derelict Reaper as we speak. You’ll find your IFF there.”

“Where is this derelict Reaper?” Shepard asked, suspiciously.

“An Alliance science team recently determined that the ‘Great Rift’ on the planet Klendagon is actually an impact crater from a mass accelerator weapon,” the Illusive Man said. He paused to pick up his drink and take a sip. “A _very_ old mass accelerator. I sent a team to find either the weapon or its target. They found both. The weapon was defunct, but it helped us plot the flight path of the intended target - a 37 million year old derelict Reaper. We found it damaged and trapped in the gravity of a brown dwarf.”

“Have the scientists found anything that might look like an IFF?” Shepard asked.

The Illusive Man sighed. “We … lost contact with Dr. Chandana’s team shortly after they boarded.”

“Great,” Shepard said. “I have to go clean up another mess.”

“We need that IFF, Shepard.”

“I heard you,” Shepard replied, uncrossing her arms and stepping back. “And I agree.”

The Illusive Man nodded. “I’ll forward the coordinates to Joker. In the meantime, I _suggest_ you tell your crew that I didn’t risk their lives unnecessarily.” He looked over at the Doctor again. “It was a pleasure to meet you. I hope we can speak again soon.”

“Don’t count on it,” the Doctor said. “I’m staying for Shepard, not you. In fact-“ he strode forward, his face set into an iron-hard expression, “when this is all over, when we make it back from the Collector homeworld - I’m coming for you. Cerberus will not stand when I’m through with it.”

 _Funny thing,_ Shepard thought as she looked between the two of them. _He doesn’t look so ridiculous now. I think I believe him._ She had no objection to that, as it was running along lines of thought she’d had herself.

“You’ll find I’m not easily intimidated,” the Illusive Man said. “Or defeated. I _would_ say give it your best shot, Doctor, except that what I’m doing is too important to be derailed by anyone. We’re not enemies.”

“Oh, yes we are,” the Doctor said.

The Illusive Man sighed. “Now, that’s a shame. It would have been a privilege to work with you.” He looked at Shepard. “Get me that IFF, Shepard.” 

Shepard didn’t respond to that. She turned around, exiting the holographic interface, hearing it power down behind her. When she heard the familiar sounds that told her the interface was deactivated and the Illusive Man was no longer listening in real time, she looked up at the ceiling. “EDI, tell the crew to assemble. We’ve got a lot to talk about.”

“Of course, Shepard,” EDI said.

* * *

The Doctor stayed for the meeting, even though it turned out to be a lot of talking (and arguing) in circles. Predictably, there were those who wanted to push forward and get this IFF now, and those who argued that they should wait. And just as predictably, the decision was left to Shepard, who seemed to be choosing caution for now, making their next destination the Citadel instead of this derelict Reaper. Apparently there were errands that Garrus and Thane (one of the other people they’d picked up on Illium, the Doctor remembered) had to run.

The conversation with the Illusive Man had been … interesting. Either the Illusive Man was wrong about his sources - and as much as he continued to despise the man on principle, evidence suggested he _was_ good at what he did - or the Doctor was due to have some adventures on Rannoch, Tuchanka, and Khar’shan in the future. He’d managed to get ahead of himself, again. Not that surprising. It also suggested that he _would_ eventually be able to travel through time here.

“Harbinger said that they didn’t create the rift,” he said to the empty TARDIS. “I can’t see the Illusive Man having done so, either. I don’t think anything in this universe can. So where did it come from, and why did it open?”

He heard a tentative knock at the TARDIS door, followed by Tali’s voice. “Doctor?” 

“Just a minute, Tali’Zorah,” he replied, walking over to the door. The quarian engineer walked inside, slowly, looking around at the interior of the TARDIS. She was followed by Mordin, and the salarian’s mouth dropped open.

“Bigger … on the inside,” Mordin said. “ _How_ big?”

“Very,” the Doctor said, instantly in a better mood. He’d been waiting for Mordin to come onboard. He knew a kindred spirit when he saw one. “There’s a library, and a swimming pool, among other rooms.”

“ _Library_?” Mordin asked, swiveling his head, his wide eyes as wide as they could go. “Books from … other times and places? _Science_ books?”

“Yes, and yes,” the Doctor said, grinning broadly. “I’m still not quite up on where your technology is - but no two universes are alike, so I’m sure there’s something you can learn from me. If _you_ have any understanding of the mass relays -“

Mordin shook his head regretfully. “No. Never been able to build new mass relay, ever. Possible STG is working on it, somewhere, but -“ he inhaled sharply “-out of loop.” He was still walking around, on his second - third? - lap of the console room. 

“The Conduit was a prototype mass relay built by the Protheans,” Tali said. “That’s the newest mass relay we know about - and it was destroyed after we went through it in the Mako.” She shook her head. “If I never ride in a land vehicle with Shepard again, it will be too soon.”

 _Conduit. Ilos_. The memories flashed into place, easier this time after the mention of Ilos back on the Collector vessel.

“Still,” the Doctor said, trying to think it through, “your scientists must have some understanding of them.”

“Some, yes. But not -“ Mordin inhaled sharply again, in what the Doctor was beginning to suspect was a verbal tic- “enough. Biologist, myself. Diseases, countermeasures. Not physicist.” He paused in front of the typewriter and extended one finger to touch a key. “Purpose of this-?” he inquired.

“Just for fun,” the Doctor said.

Mordin pressed the key, looking surprised when it retracted. He squinted at the area above the typewriter. “Old-fashioned. No screen.” He pressed another button, and then, a smile split the salarian’s face - more literally than in some other species - as he began mock-typing. “No idea of output. But -“ another sharp inhale- “Fun.”

Tali, taking the Doctor’s encouragement of Mordin as tacit permission, moved one of the puzzle joysticks around. “Seems like a lot of this is for fun,” she said. “Or does that really dispense water?” She jerked her head at the faucet.

“No, you’re right about that,” the Doctor said. “She likes to surprise me sometimes, the TARDIS does.”

Tali leaned back on the console and looked up at the arching ceiling. “You said that your ship was _alive_. How is that possible?”

The Doctor started pacing around the console room as he considered how to reply. “You understand, I’m not an expert on TARDISes.” It killed him to have to admit it, but he was dealing with two of the more intelligent people he’d encountered recently - not only that, but Tali was an expert on ships. He wanted to give them a complete picture. Maybe they’d be able to offer useful commentary. He was _always_ looking for ways to keep his TARDIS healthy.

Well, except for turning the brakes off like River had. He _liked_ the sounds. Made things more exciting.

“But my people found that a computer couldn’t handle the complex, reality-warping stress that comes with gallivanting about through time and space. I’ve … spoken … to my TARDIS. Once. And she indicated that she has some free will of her own. She said that she chose me because she wanted to see the galaxy. And, well, running about is what I do. She’s a consciousness that lives inside my ship.”

“Like EDI,” Tali said. “Except that EDI’s an artificial intelligence.”

Mordin rested one hand under his chin. “Would be interesting to see if EDI could pilot TARDIS.”

“Well, there’s only one of them, and I’m not letting her in my TARDIS,” the Doctor said peevishly.

Mordin looked disappointed, but nodded. “Engine?” he inquired, craning his head back to look up at the center of the console.

The Doctor nodded. “We can take her for a spin, if you’d like.”

Mordin’s face split with a smile, again, but his expression fell when Tali spoke up. “Actually, Shepard asked me to - that is, she thought you’d like to see the Citadel while we’re there, and that you’d prefer our company to anyone else on the ship.”

“Can’t have the stranger wandering off without an escort,” the Doctor murmured. “All right, Tali’Zorah. I would be delighted to see the sights of the Citadel with you and Professor Solus.”

“Presidium is quite impressive,” Mordin said with a decisive nod. “If didn’t know better, could almost believe it was on planet, not space station.”

“Shepard said she’d tell us when we exited the mass relay,” Tali said. “She also suggested you might want to come up and see the approach. I’d say it’s worth seeing.”

“View - “ Mordin inhaled sharply- “spectacular.”

“Well. When you put it like that, how can I refuse?” The Doctor said, grinning broadly.


	14. Interrupted R&R

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize for this one taking longer than usual. Writer's block sucks.

_2185  
Citadel/Widow Nebula_

The Doctor was grinning like a child with a new toy as they exited the Normandy, moving slowly as he took in the sights of the Citadel. Shepard, Garrus, and Thane had taken off first, presumably going to speak to their C-Sec contact Commander Bailey.

Tali could sympathize with the Doctor. She remembered her first time on the Citadel - a completely foreign environment to a child of the flotilla. The tall, open spaces of the Presidium had almost given her vertigo, and she hadn’t believed the diversity of plants that were there - just _there_ because someone thought they would look pretty, not because they served any purpose. The walls were pristine and shining; completely free from graffiti, stains, and overgrown plants. The inner workings of the Citadel were behind those pristine walls, not out where they could be easily accessed when something went wrong (because that happened fairly frequently on a quarian ship). Zakera Ward, where they were right now, was not quite as majestic and put her more in mind of a quarian ship, noisy and cluttered - but it was still far too neat and clean overall. The number of people on the Citadel - all these different races in _one_ place - was just a few million less than the entire quarian race. It made Tali aware of how tenuous her own species’ place in the galaxy was.

Then, there were the aliens. She’d only seen other races in vids, in what she recognized now was a highly dramatized fashion. She could still remember, acutely, the fascination at viewing a large, lumbering elcor in person, and then seeing a hanar just floating there, like it was a null gravity environment. She remembered the burning shame and fear she’d felt when the turian at the embassy had turned her away - he wasn’t anything like the virtuous turians portrayed in _Fleet and Flotilla_.

But without that turian turning her away, she might never have met Shepard. And she wouldn’t trade her time on the Normandy for anything. So it had all worked out, even if it had been rough flying to get there. Then again - for three hundred years, quarians hadn’t known anything but rough flying.

“Where to, first?” Mordin inquired. Tali hadn’t been sure about the salarian at first, but once she understood him, she’d grown to like him. He’d given her a few helpful tips for improving her suit and omni-tool, and she’d repaid him by giving him some information about the flotilla. Nothing too sensitive, but information that wasn’t widely available.

“Is there a gift shop?” the Doctor asked. “I love gift shops.”

“You’ll need to go through screening,” Tali said. “They’ve tightened security since Sovereign’s attack. I’m not sure what they’ll make of you.”

The Doctor pulled out a small item from his jacket pocket - it looked like some sort of ID card in a plastic covering - and held it up to Tali. “Tell me,” he said, “what you see there.”

Tali frowned, but read the text on the ID card. “Keelah!” she said, startled. “It says you’re … special adviser to _my father_. How did you do that?” She paused. “That’s still not going to get you very far. The quarians aren’t respected here.”

“Mordin,” the Doctor said, holding up the paper to the salarian, “tell me what _you_ read.”

The salarian squinted, then his eyes opened wide. “Special consultant for STG,” he said slowly. “Top secret clearance. Full access.”

“Psychic paper,” the Doctor said, closing the flap. “Says what I want it to say - or need to say - to get what I want. Saves a lot of trouble.”

“So, if we get stopped by someone, that will say that you’re someone important enough to not be bothered with,” Tali said.

“Precisely,” the Doctor replied.

“Shepard encountered issue during first visit to Citadel. Had to get it straightened out. Psychic paper may not be enough,” Mordin said, tapping his chin.

“Are you always such a downer, Mordin?” the Doctor asked.

“Simply pointing out likely obstacle. No reason obstacle can’t be circumvented,” Mordin replied, smiling slightly. “Seem to be good at that.”

The Doctor just smirked, that self-satisfied all-knowing expression he’d worn a lot since coming onto the Normandy. Tali wondered if that was going to become annoying at some point.

The trio walked forward towards the Zakera Ward entrance, passing through security. Sure enough, the turian guarding the entrance held up a hand as he examined the scanner. “You’re not registered,” he said to the Doctor. “You’ll need to speak with Captain Bailey, just on the other side, and he’ll get you in the system.”

“Maybe you should mention Shepard,” Tali said as they walked forward. “He’s been helping her.”

“Let’s see where the psychic paper gets me,” the Doctor said in an undertone as they walked up to Bailey’s desk. 

“Ah. Doctor Solus,” Bailey said with a nod. “Good to see you again. Shepard just walked through here.”

“Just sight-seeing today,” Mordin said. “Maybe make some purchases.”

“Playing tourist, hmm? Well, have fun,” Bailey said. “And Tali’Zorah nar Rayya.”

“Tali’Zorah vas Neema,” Tali corrected, somewhat irritably.

“My apologies,” Bailey said. “I’ll update that now. And who’s the third member of your party? He didn’t show up on any databases.”

“I wouldn’t,” the Doctor said, squaring his shoulders in a very Shepard-like gesture. Tali couldn’t tell if it was a deliberate imitation or not. He held out the psychic paper for Bailey’s inspection.

Tali had learned to read human expressions since coming on the Normandy, so she could tell that Bailey was shocked by what he saw there. “Terribly sorry, sir,” he said, the words stuttering out. “No one told me.”

“That’s all right,” the Doctor replied cheerfully, putting the psychic paper away. “It was a test, and you passed, er,”

“Captain,” Mordin supplied in an undertone.

“Captain,” the Doctor said, nodding. “Carry on.”

Bailey saluted them as they walked off. Tali gave the Doctor a sidelong glance. “What did that say, anyways?”

The Doctor pulled the psychic paper back out and examined it. “Says I’m the special undercover agent of Executor Pallin. Who would that be?”

“The head of C-Sec,” Tali said. “Citadel Security.”

“Paper shows authority that subject respects most?” Mordin asked. At the Doctor’s nod, he continued. “Interesting that Councilor Anderson was not that authority.”

“He’s far more likely to upset the Executor than the Councilor,” Tali said thoughtfully.

“Hm. True.” Mordin nodded.

“Where to first, Doctor?” Tali asked. 

The Doctor cast a glance around, still appearing to be drinking in all the details, then clapped his hands together. “And the gift shop is right by the entrance!”

“Of course,” Mordin said, sounding amused. “Makes it easier to part tourists from money.”

The Doctor patted his pockets. “Money. What do people use for money? I never seem to have any.”

Tali looked over at Mordin. It was in situations like this where she most wished she could use facial expressions, because a lifetime of pinching pennies made her extremely reluctant to voluntarily give up her ‘pocket money’ - even if Shepard would find some way to pay back Tali.

“My treat,” Mordin said brightly. Tali suspected his mind was running along a similar vein. Or maybe that was just quarian values talking.

“Thank you, Mordin,” the Doctor said as they moved towards the aforementioned gift shop. 

The asari who greeted them directed them towards the purchase terminal. The Doctor’s mouth quirked in a smile as his hand hovered over one of the entries. “Space hamster?” he asked.

“Many of our customers spend a long time aboard ships, sometimes with minimal company,” the asari said. “The space hamster was bred to thrive on a shipboard environment, and to interact with its owner.”

“I’ll take one,” the Doctor said enthusiastically, before looking over at Mordin. 

The salarian paused, shrugged, and then authorized the transaction. 

“And to what ship should this be delivered?” the asari asked.

“The Normandy,” Tali said.

“Oh! I’ll bundle it with the other order for the Normandy,” the asari said. “Someone from there bought all our model spaceships.”

Tali perked up at that. She’d have to go to Shepard’s cabin to see the collection. “Thank you,” she said, more enthusiastically than she’d intended.

“Have a pleasant day!” the asari said as they turned to leave.

“Any other shops you want to visit?” Tali asked. “I usually stop at Saronis Applications. They have the best software.”

“Sirta Supplies. Biomedical retailer,” Mordin said.

“Thank you both for your recommendations,” the Doctor said. “But what I’d like to see right now is the Presidium. If I’m allowed to drag you about in such a manner.”

“It’s rare that Shepard gives us the time to just relax off the Normandy,” Tali said. “A lot of the time, even if we’re not on missions, we’re supposed to be at a state of readiness. In and out in no time, since we never know what to expect. But the Citadel is - as safe as anywhere, these days. Shepard’s still a Spectre, even if the Council maintains deniability about her actions. No one on the Citadel would dream of giving a Spectre trouble.” She looked over at the Doctor. “So, no, I don’t mind wandering about. Especially since Shepard told us to do this with you. So really, we’re just following orders from our commander.”

“Would never dream of disobeying Shepard’s orders,” Mordin said. “Consequences -“ the sharp inhale, again- “unpleasant.”

“So she’s a hard woman,” the Doctor said slowly.

“Trying to figure the Commander out, Doctor?” Tali asked.

“She’s still - contradictory,” the Doctor said.

“I can see where you’d think that,” Tali said, and decided to open up a little bit. “She’s hard because she has to be. She’s the only person who even has a hope of doing something about the Reapers. And not enough people believe her, which makes her job even harder. But she was always kind to me. She was the first person to treat me as anything resembling an equal. She offered me a place on her ship and her team. Listened to what I had to say. She’s my friend as well as my commander.” She was blushing underneath her helmet for having gushed about Shepard that way, but it was all true. The only saving grace she felt was at knowing she wasn’t the only one on board the Normandy to think that. 

“And you, Mordin?” the Doctor asked, turning to look at the salarian.

“Shepard found me on Omega. Was working in clinic there. Plague unleashed by Collectors.” Mordin shook his head. “Nasty business. Killed all species except humans and vorcha. Found cure right before Shepard arrived. Stopping Collectors-“ he inhaled sharply - “worthy goal. Cerberus throwing money at project. Latest equipment, weapons. Fully stocked lab. Freedom to pursue projects.” Mordin paused and brought a hand up to rest on his chin. “Still working on cure for Joker’s condition.” He dropped the hand. “Shepard helped with … personal matter. Former student of mine. Engaged in … questionable activities. Found him. Stopped him from hurting anyone else.” He nodded. “No question of following Shepard now. Didn’t have to help me. Did it anyways.”

“So everyone has some degree of personal loyalty towards Shepard?” the Doctor asked.

Tali thought back to the recent trips they’d taken. “Both Miranda and Jacob do, now, I’m pretty sure. It didn’t take much for Grunt to decide that Shepard is more krogan than a krogan. Jack stopped swearing quite so much at Shepard after they took that trip to Pragia, or so I’m told-“ she looked over at Mordin, who nodded in confirmation. “And she’s running errands for Garrus and Thane today. Not that Garrus really needs it. He’s like me - been there from the beginning.”

“Not quite,” Mordin said in a musing tone. Both Tali and the Doctor looked at him, but he offered no other explanation.

“Sorry, who’s Jack?” the Doctor asked after a moment. “Don’t think I’ve met him yet.”

“Her,” Tali corrected. “She’s a human biotic. And …” she groped for something reasonably polite to say. Jack was crazy, no doubt about that, but she was also on their side.

“Mental issues,” Mordin supplied. “Experimented on to improve biotic potential. Tortured. Cerberus - responsible.”

The Doctor’s face darkened noticeably. Tali wondered just how long it would take for either him or Shepard to crack and go after the Illusive Man personally.

By this time, they had walked back to the C-Sec outpost. Tali looked over to see Garrus standing there, arms crossed, an amused expression on his face while a human shouted at Captain Bailey. “What’s going on?” she asked him.

“Shepard and Thane are questioning some guy who has information on Thane’s son,” Garrus said in an undertone. “That’s his lawyer.”

“He doesn’t look happy,” Tali said.

“Apparently the guy pays Bailey to avoid situations like this,” Garrus said. “Things have changed since my days in C-Sec.”

One of the doors opened, and Shepard and Thane exited. Tali craned her neck to see a human cowering in a corner, his hands held over his head in a protective gesture. Shepard looked surprised to see the other Normandy group there, but just nodded in an acknowledgment of their presence.

“The guy he’s after is Joram Talid,” she said to Bailey. 

The Doctor was frowning as he, too, craned his neck to look in the interrogation room. “What did you do?” he demanded of Shepard.

“We just talked to him,” Shepard said lightly. Tali barely kept herself from laughing. She’d seen that expression on Shepard’s face a hundred times before, when she was doing her best to play the dumb soldier. She had no idea if anyone outside of the Normandy crew was buying it.

“C’mon, let’s go to the Presidium,” she said, nudging the Doctor’s elbow to get him to keep moving. She suspected it wouldn’t be a good idea to keep him here for too long, given that his face was darkening again. Tali was sure that Shepard hadn’t done any permanent damage. Reasonably sure.

“But-“ the Doctor said.

“Shepard’s got it under control,” Tali said. “Don’t you want to see the Presidium?”

The Doctor frowned, again, then nodded. “All right.”

* * *

The Presidium was as spectacular as everyone had promised.

It put the Doctor in mind of many of the places he’d visited recently. Too many of them had a sinister undertone. There were _always_ sinister undertones. This place, so he understood from Liara’s memories, was no exception - except that it had been unearthed two years ago, when Saren and Sovereign took control of the Citadel in an attempt to let the bulk of the Reapers in.

“You were here,” the Doctor said to Tali as those memories filtered in. “You fought the final battle with Shepard.”

“An experience I will never forget,” Tali said. “Walking on the outside of the Citadel, seeing all the ships firing on Sovereign - the geth trying to stop us, every step of the way. And then getting to the Council chambers, having to fight Saren after Sovereign - brought him back. Took him over. Made him this inorganic monster that just hopped around everywhere. I wasn’t as much use as Wrex was, but I did my best, knocked him off balance a few times. It was the most horrifying thing I’d ever seen.” She shook her head. 

The Doctor looked around at their surroundings. “They rebuilt this in two years?” he asked.

“Keepers helped,” Mordin said. “Facilitated rebuilding. Reapers programmed them to keep Citadel functioning. Their home. Strong incentive to return to normal. ”

“And the Council just denied it ever happened,” Tali said. “Blamed it all on Saren and refused to accept that the Reapers were real. They’re not prepared for the war.”

“People never want to believe that there’s something dangerous out there,” the Doctor said. “Humans are very good at denial.”

“Trait not specific to humans,” Mordin said, shaking his head. “Councilor Valern won’t listen. Dalatrasses won’t listen. Salarians prefer to solve problems before they happen. Reapers-“ he inhaled sharply- “already a problem. Collectors prove that.”

The silence stretched out for a long moment as they all contemplated that, the Doctor leaning on a railing and looking out over the Presidium’s ponds. What a contrast. The three of them - and everyone else on the Normandy - were among the few people in the galaxy that knew war was coming. Everyone else was just going about their lives. 

Mordin’s omni-tool beeped, abruptly, and he lifted it up to examine what it was telling him. His eyes widened in surprise. “Councilor Valern,” he said. “Wants to see me. Immediately. Matter of some urgency.”

“Well, then,” the Doctor said after the silence faded. “I think we’d better go see him.”


	15. Valern's Request

_2185_  
 _Citadel/Widow Nebula_

The Doctor and Tali followed Mordin into the salarian councilor’s office, all three of them walking rapidly. The councilor (whom the Doctor vaguely remembered from Liara’s memories) was talking to a group of salarians, huddled together. He turned and walked over, then paused midway. “Mordin Solus,” he said, his voice a bit higher than Mordin’s. “I’m glad you could come, but who are-“

“Tali’Zorah vas Neema,” Mordin said, nodding to the quarian. “Saved the Citadel two years ago.” He looked over at the Doctor and hesitated, then said, “Doctor Smith. Fellow scientist.”

The Doctor didn’t bother adding a correction. If Mordin thought that was the best way to proceed, he’d go along with it.

The councilor - Valern - looked like he wanted to protest, but a burst of sound from the salarians in the corner seemed to make his mind up for him. “It’s a stroke of luck that you were here,” he said. “C-Sec sent me a routine notification when you arrived. There’s a … delicate situation, and I hesitate to involve them. I’d rather have someone whose loyalties are undivided.”

Mordin folded his arms across his chest. “Currently serving with Commander Shepard,” he said, his voice challenging. “Problem?”

“Commander Shepard? The savior of the Citadel?” one of the salarians in the corner said. “Councilor, quit wasting time! My daughter is missing!”

Mordin recoiled backwards, his eyes going wide, his back stiffening. “Daughter?” he said. “Missing?”

The salarian nodded frantically. “I had business to conduct here, and my Laran begged me to let her come … she’s never been off of Sur’Kesh. She said she wanted to see the other races.”

“You should not have given into her!” one of the other salarians said, a female if the Doctor was correct. “Look at what happened!”

“Dalatrass, please,” Mordin said. “No time. _Must_ find her.” He turned to face the first salarian - the missing girl’s father, it appeared. “Take us to where she was last seen. Will start from there.”

“But that includes a human and a quarian-“ the Dalatrass began again.

“Professor Solus is correct,” Valern cut in. “There is no time, and he is the best person to help us. If he insists on bringing companions, I must insist that you allow it.” He folded his arms across his chest. “They serve with a council Spectre, and the council has full trust in its Spectres. Thus, I have full trust in … them.” 

“Good. Settled, then,” Mordin said, nodding decisively. “Lead us.”

* * *

“That was a load of crap if I ever heard one,” Tali confided in an undertone to the Doctor as the frantic father lead them back to the apartment they’d been staying in. “I’m surprised Valern got it out with a straight face.”

“What do you mean?” the Doctor asked.

“The council says it has full trust in its Spectres, but they’ve never once taken Shepard seriously,” Tali said. “Not even after everything she said the first time was proven right. She told me that they only reinstated her after she promised to stick to the Terminus Systems and not cause any trouble. But they can’t say that they think she’s crazy in public, and she is still a hero to many people. Salarians included, apparently.”

Mordin looked over his shoulder at them, and they hastened to catch up. The father was explaining how the apartment belonged to his clan and was one he’d used on business before. “Security’s usually so tight,” he said. “I can’t imagine how someone got in without anyone noticing! She couldn’t have been alone for long - I should never have left her alone at all. The child-minder was running late, and I would’ve been late for the meeting if I hadn’t left then. I can’t believe I was so wrapped up in the business deal that I let my daughter get taken.”

“Trained professional,” Mordin offered. “Good at circumventing security. Tali. Check the security feeds for signs of tampering, hacking?”

“I’m on it, Mordin,” Tali assured him.

“Doctor. Examine girl’s room. See if anything looks out of place. Will talk to father.”

The Doctor started to nod, then hesitated. “You know what would be out of place better than I would. I’ll talk to the father.”

Mordin’s eyes narrowed slightly. “Positive?” 

“I’m good with people,” the Doctor said, his tone softening slightly. “Trust me.”

Mordin considered, then gave a sharp nod. “All right. Talk to father. Garid.”

“His name is Garid?” the Doctor asked, just to be sure, and was relieved to see Mordin nod.

They entered the apartment building and Tali promptly peeled off to examine the security feeds. When they got to the apartment the salarian family had been staying in, Mordin headed for the daughter’s room while the Doctor stayed in the living room with the father. For a moment he wondered if he should have stuck with Mordin’s original suggestion, but then he shook his head and took matters into his own hands. He took a seat next to Garid and looked at the salarian’s face, trying to meet his eye.

“Tell me about her,” he said. “Laran.”

Garid looked up at him. “I see her every once in a while,” he said after a long moment. “I’m lucky that I get to spend as much time with her as I do. I couldn’t believe it when Hira said that I could see her. I don’t know how she does it with all of them to raise. Well, she has lots of help. All mothers do.” He was speaking faster than before, wringing his hands together. “Hira gave me permission to take her. Salarian females don’t leave their home worlds normally. Not unless they’re Dalatrasses.” He hung his head. “My clan will never live this down.”

“We’re going to get her back,” the Doctor reassured him. “What’s she like?”

“Smart,” Garid said. “Very smart. Picks up everything the first time. Talks about wanting to do something scientific like her brothers. She’s destined for politics, of course, but - I can’t help but encourage her. I work with computers. So I gave her one that she could play around with.” He laughed a little, some of the tension easing out. “She used it to hack her brothers’ terminals. Got them in trouble. Hira was furious when she found out. Gave her a lecture about the responsibilities a female has to her clan. Clans.”

“Bright girl,” the Doctor said softly. “She sounds resourceful and quick on her feet. If that’s the case … she might get herself out of trouble.”

“But she’s just a child!” Garid said, practically falling forward as he put his head in his hands. “Not even three years old yet. I can’t - I couldn’t live with myself if something happened to her.”

“We’ll find her,” the Doctor said, placing a hand on the salarian’s shoulder. “I promise you that. _I_ will find her and bring her home to you.”

Garid lifted his head up, slowly, and tilted his gaze towards the Doctor. “I believe you,” he said, sounding surprised. “I actually believe that. Thank you - whoever you are. Thank you for giving me hope.”

The Doctor smiled, feeling proud of himself, and looked up to see Mordin exiting the girl’s room. “Doctor. See if Tali is done with security yet?” he asked. “Few questions for Garid.”

The Doctor nodded and exited towards the lobby, taking the elevator down. He met Tali as she was heading towards the elevator. “Whoever did this was smart enough to hack the security feed,” she said. “It’s a fairly decent setup, too. There was some level of planning. Did you and Mordin find anything?”

“Mordin might have,” the Doctor replied. “He sent me to find you. He said he had a few more questions for Garid.” Something was itching at the back of his mind, but he couldn’t quite grasp it yet. He ground his teeth and tried to pin it down, causing Tali to give him a sidelong glance.

Mordin was waiting for them outside the elevator. “Have a better idea of what happened,” he said, entering and pressing the button for the lobby. His mouth was tight with concern. “Girl was not kidnapped. Girl ran away.”

“Of _course_ ,” the Doctor said, smacking the heel of his hand against his forehead. “Garid gave her a terminal and she promptly became a little hacker-in-training. _She_ hacked the security feed. I wouldn’t be surprised to learn that she somehow caused her minder to be running late as well.”

Mordin’s face was surprised, and he’d have bet every room on the TARDIS that Tali’s was wearing a similar expression behind her mask. “Makes sense to you?” Mordin asked. “Cannot conceive of it. Cannot fathom.”

“From what Garid told me, the girl was starting to feel like she was being shoehorned into something she didn’t want,” the Doctor said. “You salarians are mad on tech and science, well, she got the bug too, and didn’t like being told that she had to go into politics and live a tightly-controlled life.”

“But - salarians imprint,” Mordin said. “Very difficult to disobey authority figures. Parents. Dalatrasses. How could she overcome that?”

“Well, no one ever told her not to run away,” the Doctor said. “They just assumed she wouldn’t. And you said it’s very difficult to disobey, not that it’s impossible. She begged her father to let her come to the Citadel. A place where you can do anything you want, or so she saw it.”

“She was smart enough to disable the security cams in this building,” Tali said slowly. “But I bet that she didn’t bother with the _other_ cameras in the area. We can trace her steps that way.”

“Will call Councilor Valern, and get permission,” Mordin said, starting to activate his omni-tool.

“No need,” the Doctor said, bringing out the psychic paper again. “I’m a special undercover C-Sec operative, remember?”

* * *

The psychic paper did, in fact, get them into the local C-Sec outpost without any issues. From there they accessed the surveillance footage and discovered that Laran had caught rapid transit to Bachjret Ward. “Dominated by asari,” Mordin said. “Relatively friendly, as far as relations with salarians go. Salarians would send her straight home. Asari might give her a chance.”

“I’d feel better about her safety among the asari if I hadn’t seen the number of asari working as ruthless mercenaries and even slavers,” Tali said grimly. 

Mordin looked troubled, but shook his head. “Doesn’t matter. _Have_ to get her home. Soon.”

“Mordin is right. We can’t focus on what might happen,” the Doctor said. “Can we access the feeds from Bachjret Ward here?”

Tali looked over her shoulder to see how far away the C-Sec officer was, then turned back and started typing. “Just watch me,” she said in a playful tone. “I’ll even get the feeds for the Council Chamber.”

“Not necessary,” Mordin said after a moment’s hesitation.

“Tempted, Professor Solus?” Tali asked.

“Never,” Mordin said, attempting to keep a straight face - and failing miserably.

The Doctor just chuckled at that. It was good to be hunting down something that he could understand. He still didn’t have a grasp of the Reapers, even after his conversations with Harbinger. But combing through a busy space station to find a missing child - he could manage that.

“There,” Tali said, pulling up a window. “She exited in the commercial district.”

“Looking for a place to work?” the Doctor mused aloud. “Somewhere that she could feel useful?”

“And appreciated for her skills,” Tali said. “For what she wants to do and is good at doing.”

“But would they really hire a young girl?” the Doctor asked.

“They might,” Tali replied. “One of the smaller companies, maybe. One that would use any edge to get ahead, and wouldn’t care as much about employing an underage girl. There are probably enough legal loopholes that they could find some way to do it.”

“More surveillance?” Mordin asked. 

“Let me see.” Tali tapped at the keyboard again, frowning. “Not that much. Gets too crowded after that. I’d have to spend more time refining the image.”

“And our time is better spent going down there ourselves,” the Doctor said. “How do we get to Bachjret Ward?”

“The same way she did, I’d imagine,” Tali said, closing down the surveillance windows. “Probably for the best that we move on. Someone at C-Sec might notice what I’m doing.”

“I’m hurt that you don’t think I’d get you out of it,” the Doctor said, feeling a grin split his face.

“Hah,” Tali said. “The girl’s ahead of us, and there’s a lot of places she could be, so we’ll need all of us to search. You’re the one that said our time is better spent going down there ourselves.”

“Tali has a point,” Mordin said. “Need to get moving.”

“Bachjret Ward it is, then,” the Doctor said, as the three of them exited the C-Sec outpost.

* * *

There was definitely a pattern to the Wards, the Doctor thought, even if the beings moving about here were, generally speaking, of different species than the ones in Zakera. But there was the same bustle and hubbub of business taking place, whether it was monetary or personal. 

“Split up, take different stores,” Mordin said. “Communicate results via omni-tool. Text better. Less obtrusive. Need to avoid attracting wrong kind of attention.” He lifted the omni-tool and set up the three-way link, making Tali and the Doctor’s omni-tools beep. 

“Hope not to take too long,” Mordin added before nodding and disappearing into the crowd. Tali headed off in the opposite direction, and the Doctor went down a third row so that he wouldn’t overlap with their efforts. After finding nothing at the first store, the Doctor looked at his omni-tool to see that both Tali and Mordin hadn’t had any luck either. He moved on, as he assumed the others were doing. Two stores later, he got his first break.

The asari minding the counter hesitated a bit too long when asked if she’d seen a young salarian recently, and the Doctor pressed his advantage. “I’m not trying to get her into trouble,” he said soothingly. “Her family’s very worried about her. I’m just trying to make sure she’s safe. Is she here?”

The asari hesitated, then shook her head. “No. I couldn’t afford to take her off the books like she wanted. I gave her another store to try. One that wouldn’t care as much.”

“Risky,” the Doctor noted in an undertone.

“I … should’ve tried harder to help her,” the asari said, her voice barely above a whisper. “I couldn’t believe she’d gotten this far without running into the wrong people.”

“Where?” the Doctor pressed.

“Hairin Computing,” the asari replied. “Two doors over.”

“Thank you,” the Doctor said, and turned to leave, sending a message on his omni-tool as he did so to let the others know the lead he’d found. He could only hope that Hairin was still the place to find her.

* * *

Laran was beginning to regret the decision to run away from home.

She couldn’t remember how many different computer stores she’d tried in Bachjret Ward before finding Hairin Computing. For a little while, she’d thought that it would all work out, that she’d get to live the life she dreamed of, away from constricting mothers and dalatrasses. The only part she felt truly bad about was the trouble she’d gotten her father into. He was the one who had helped her realize what she wanted to do, and she’d manipulated him like the politician she wanted to avoid being.

But all of that was almost meaningless, now, as she sat in a small room in a warehouse with other “merchandise”. She couldn’t believe this was happening on the Citadel, of all places! It was supposed to be the best place that all the races built together, a place where anyone could go and find where they were supposed to belong. 

Instead, she had believed that the asari at Hairin were really interested in hiring her. She had been positively gleeful at the possibility of doing something on her own. She hadn’t even noticed that she was being locked in a room with only one exit until the lock engaged.

At that point, Laran had known she was really in trouble, and she had screamed and banged at the door to no avail. She hadn’t been left alone for too long before they’d taken her to the warehouse. Having gone to so much trouble to get away from home, she now wanted to go back, more than she’d ever wanted anything in her almost three years of life. 

* * *

The Doctor stormed out of Hairin Computing to find Tali and Mordin waiting for him there. His face was so hard it could have been chiseled from granite. “They took her to a warehouse in lower Bachjret,” he said. “To be sold.”

Mordin’s pistol was out almost before the Doctor knew what had happened, and the Doctor had to move quickly to prevent the salarian from going inside and dealing with the asari there. “This is where we call C-Sec,” the Doctor said quietly. “Let them be arrested and possibly give up others that they’ve worked with.”

Mordin’s eyes narrowed, but he nodded and put the gun away. Tali brought up her omni-tool as they moved, making the call. “I used a scrambler to make it anonymous,” she said. “So they won’t come asking too many questions later. Hopefully they’ll just take the gift.”

“Suspect they will,” Mordin said, moving faster and forcing the other two to keep up with him. “Will drop a word with Valern later, if need be.”

They took an elevator down from the commercial district to the storage district. None of them spoke during the ride, Tali leaning back against the edge and tapping at her omni-tool, Mordin constantly staring at the floor indicator, and the Doctor pacing back and forth between them. 

When the elevator door opened, Mordin was first out, followed closely by Tali and the Doctor. As they neared the warehouse, Mordin and Tali brought out their weapons and the Doctor grimly fished his sonic screwdriver out of his pocket. 

The door to the warehouse was locked. The only problem that posed was which one of them, exactly, was going to be the one to get it open. The Doctor was quickest, pointing the sonic screwdriver and using the right settings to get the door to click open. Mordin and Tali rushed in, guns out and ready to fire. 

“Where are you keeping them?” the Doctor demanded of the asari inside the warehouse. Tali spotted a computer and immediately sat down to start hacking it, presumably for evidence. Mordin’s eyes were narrowed as he pointed the pistol at the asari, omni-tool raised and primed for something.

“Who the hell are you?” the asari spat back. “And what the hell are you doing here?”

The Doctor stepped closer, eyes narrowed. “I am the Doctor, and I am here to take a missing girl home. If you’ve harmed one hair -“ he paused - “scale, on her head, I will make sure you regret it.”

The asari looked over at Tali, then back at Mordin and the Doctor. “You’re not C-Sec.”

“Don’t think that gets you off the hook,” the Doctor said. “You’ve taken a child - a child who just wanted to find her own way in the world - and you were going to _sell_ her. You disgust me.”

“Got it,” Tali said, straightening from the terminal. “They kept good records. I’m surprised, given everything else about this operation is shoddy.”

“It’s not shoddy!” the asari protested.

“Oh, so you admit it is your operation,” the Doctor said. “Good to know.”

“It’s shoddy because we found you,” Tali said. “You didn’t cover your tracks nearly well enough. That may be the only thing that’s stopping my friend here from blowing your brains out.” She tilted her head at Mordin. “Where’s the girl?”

The asari pursed her lips, and the Doctor lifted up his sonic screwdriver in what he hoped was a threatening manner. That seemed to do the trick.

“They’re in back.”

* * *

The door opened. Everyone inside - Laran included - shied away, wanting to avoid being hit for anything that looked even remotely like an escape.

“It’s okay,” a voice said. A human voice. “We’re going to get you out of here. We’re friends. We’re here to help you.”

Laran looked up to see an older salarian by the human’s side, and her eyes widened. She didn’t recognize him. She didn’t know if she should be afraid of him, or not. He walked towards her, and she noticed that he was missing one horn.

“Laran?” he asked.

“How do you know my name?” she squeaked out, too surprised to remember to keep silent.

He smiled at her. “Your father Garid begged us to find you. Very worried. Blames himself.”

Laran hadn’t mentioned her father’s name to anyone. “Who are you?” she asked.

“Mordin Solus. Special Tasks Group,” he said, and extended a hand to her.

That undid her completely, and instead of taking his hand she leapt up and wrapped her arms around his neck. “Taking you home, now,” he assured her, and she believed him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Obviously, I took some liberties with the other Wards, since we don’t get that much detail on them.


	16. Citadel Shortcuts

_2185  
Citadel/Widow Nebula_

After dealing with Harkin, Shepard, Garrus, and Thane had wound up with time on their hands before the meeting with Sidonis. Shepard was worried about Garrus and had thought it would be best to get him away from where the meeting was supposed to take place on Zakera Ward, and had leapt on Thane’s suggestion of a cafe in Bachjret Ward that he had visited before, that catered to levo- and dextro-amino customers. It had taken a lot of coaxing to get Garrus to order something, but he eventually had, even grudgingly admitting that it was good.

They were still in no rush to get back to Zakera, and when they saw a group of C-Sec officers moving past them at a fast clip, they paused to observe the rapidly growing crowd around one of the warehouses nearby.

“Should we take a look?” Shepard asked.

“I don’t know, Shepard, we don’t need any more trouble…” Garrus began.

“If C-Sec’s there, they’ve already got it under control, most likely,” Shepard said. 

“Most likely,” Thane said in his gravelly voice. Shepard thought she might have detected a hint of amusement there. “That leaves room for us to be drawn in.”

“Come on, guys,” Shepard said. “Aren’t you the least bit curious as to what’s happening?”

Garrus sighed. “Fine, fine. We’d better not be late.”

“We won’t be, Garrus,” Shepard assured him, feeling a little flutter in her stomach. His nervousness was making her nervous. “It’s not like I’m going to walk up and introduce myself and ask if I can help.”

They were almost to the commotion when Shepard heard a familiar voice rising above the din, and she almost laughed out loud. “Call Councilor Valern,” Mordin was saying. “No time for this. Have to get the girl _home_.”

A few steps more and Shepard could see that there was a young salarian - the girl in question, presumably - clinging to Mordin as though her life depended on it. Besides Mordin stood the Doctor, taking out some sort of black ID and waving it in a turian C-Sec officer’s face. “What part of _Special Undercover Operative_ do you not understand?” he asked.

“I don’t know of _any_ undercover operations in this district,” the turian officer said.

“That’s because I’m not part of this district, I’m -“ The Doctor threw up his hands in exasperation. “Look, will you just step aside and let us go?”

“You busted an organic trafficking ring here on the Citadel,” the turian said. “I don’t know about Jones, here-“ he nodded to his human partner- “but I have a lot of questions about how you did that.”

“They were _bosh’tets_ , that’s how!” Tali said, coming to stand beside the Doctor. “We busted them in a matter of _hours_. You should be ashamed that we did it so quickly. Or did you not care about the people vanishing? Were they just transients, like _me_?”

Shepard, Garrus, and Thane exchanged a glance, and then Shepard broke out laughing. She opened a call to Anderson on her omni-tool. “Anderson? I don’t know what your salarian counterpart was up to today, but he managed to involve some of my crew, and they’re now right in the middle of C-Sec bureaucracy. Could you let Valern know so he can get this straightened out before we leave?”

“What the hell are you talking about, Shepard?” Anderson asked.

“I’ll be honest, sir, I haven’t the faintest,” Shepard said. “But we’re in Bachjret Ward and _something_ is happening with my crew and C-Sec. Just let Valern know, will you?”

“All right,” Anderson said. “I’ll see if that scaly bastard feels like giving me answers while he’s at it.”

“Good luck with that, sir,” Shepard said, and closed down the call. She sighed. “Much as I’d like to stick around to figure out what was going on here, I think it’s time for us to be going back to Zakera.” She turned around and headed back the way they’d come, the other two falling in behind her.

* * *

One minute, they were getting absolutely nowhere with C-Sec.

The next, the highest-ranking officer, a turian, raised a hand to his earpiece (if that was the right term - did turians even _have_ ears?) and barked out “What? Are you sure?” There was a pause, and the turian shook his head. “All right, sir. If you say so.” He lifted his head up and nodded to Mordin. “They can go.”

“But, sir,” the human officer said, “we’re not done with them-“

“This is above your pay grade,” the turian said gruffly. “And mine too, apparently. They can leave.”

“About time,” Tali said crossly, turning her omni-tool off and moving to join Mordin and the Doctor. 

“Thank you,” the Doctor said to the turian, trying not to sound too peevish. He had just been doing his job, after all. It wasn’t his fault that today his job had involved the Doctor.

“Just get out of here before I change my mind,” the turian replied, waving a hand at them as he turned away to continue processing the former captives. 

Laran was quiet as they made their way out of the area, only speaking again once they’d entered the elevator that would take them back to the commercial district. “Is my father mad at me?” she asked Mordin.

“Suspect he will be relieved to see you,” Mordin replied. “Mad later. Possibly. Would worry more about dalatrasses.”

Laran cringed visibly. “Maybe - maybe they’ll be so disappointed that they won’t want anything to do with me anymore,” she said after a minute.

Mordin shook his head. “Doubtful. Females too important.”

“I wish I’d been born a boy, then,” Laran said sulkily. “So I could just go work with computers and no one would want anything from me.”

“Dalatrasses want things from boys too,” Mordin told her. “Must bring honor and prestige to our clans. If no honor in computers, encouraged into other matters.”

Laran sighed. “I hate them.”

The Doctor was now wearing a small smile. It seemed that some traits were universal across species. “The trick is,” he said, “to make them want the same things that you want.”

Laran twisted her head to look at the Doctor. “How do I do that?” she asked.

“I’m not an expert in politics,” the Doctor said. “But it seems like there would be some overlap between computers and politics. In two senses, I think. When you’re hacking, you’re looking for the weak spot - and in politics, you often have to find the other person’s weak spot, to make them give you what they want.”

“What’s the other sense?” Laran asked, her eyes wide, paying close attention.

“To use your computer skills to help politicians,” Tali said, picking up the thread. The Doctor nodded, giving her permission to continue. “You’re not going to be a dalatrass overnight, after all. You could learn to write programs that the dalatrasses would find useful. Like financial ones.” She inclined her head slightly, a gesture that the Doctor guessed was in lieu of a smile. “Quarians know something about duty to one’s family as well. Everyone has to contribute in some way.”

“Running away from problems rarely solves them,” Mordin offered. “Must confront them head-on. Father loves you. Would probably help.”

“But - if he lost me - will the dalatrasses prevent him from seeing me again?” Laran asked, getting fearful again.

“Won’t let that happen,” Mordin assured her.

“Nor will I,” the Doctor said.

“Or I,” Tali added.

“But you don’t even know me!” Laran said. “Why would you help me?”

“Because you deserve our help,” the Doctor said.

“I’m nobody special,” Laran said.

“Course you are,” the Doctor said indignantly. “Is there another salarian girl named Laran that loves computers? You’re one of a kind. That makes you special.”

“Oh,” Laran said, and buried her head against Mordin’s neck again. It seemed like he’d given her something to think about. Maybe they all had. That was all to the good.

* * *

When they reached Garid’s apartment building, the salarian was already waiting for them outside. Laran started running when she saw her father, leaping up into his arms and clinging on the same way she’d been clinging to Mordin moments earlier. 

“Will let Valern know girl is home,” Mordin said as they watched the father-daughter reunion. “And suggest ways to make dalatrasses happy. Don’t want girl trying to run away again.”

“I think that was a proper scare,” the Doctor said. “I don’t think she’ll run away again. But she might cause trouble in other ways.”

“Solus name not without pull,” Mordin said. “Owed a few favors. Can call in if necessary. Nephew doesn’t need favors. Already has career. Where else will favors go?”

“Your retirement?” Tali asked lightly.

“Shepard said, low survival odds,” Mordin reminded her. “May not be retirement to speak of.”

And just like that, they’d wandered onto a topic none of them wanted to discuss in great detail. The silence fell as Garid came over, Laran clutching his hand tightly. “I can’t thank you enough,” Garid said. “I don’t know what I would have done if - Thank you. If there’s anything that I can ever do -“

“Not needed,” Mordin said, waving a hand. “Laran’s safety and happiness - enough reward.” 

“Still,” Garid said earnestly. “Please keep it in mind.”

“We will,” the Doctor replied. It never hurt to have favors to call in. And, he suspected, Garid would be hurt if they refused.

“Should be going back to the ship,” Mordin said. “Not sure how much longer Shepard will be.” He paused. “Will keep in touch. Want to hear how things go.”

“Really?” Laran said.

“Of course,” Mordin said, nodding decisively. “Smart girl. Bright future.”

Laran brightened visibly at that - as Mordin had probably meant her to. “I won’t let you down.”

“Good,” Mordin replied. “Don’t worry. Will speak with Valern if there’s any trouble.”

As the trio turned to leave, the Doctor looked back over his shoulder to see Laran clinging to Garid as a swarm of salarians descended on them, no doubt with a million questions and recriminations. The Doctor wished he could help, but he suspected he wouldn’t get anywhere with this group. 

“What’s her future, really?” the Doctor asked. “Is she going to be able to follow her love for computers?”

“Don’t know,” Mordin said. “Hope so. Will lend what help I can. Females sequestered and isolated for a reason. So few of them. Clans get upset when females at risk. Future of clan rides on them.”

“Hardly seems fair to girls like Laran,” the Doctor said.

Mordin sighed. “Possibly right. Salarian system built around our biology. Ninety-nine males to every female. No system is perfect. Sometimes … anomalies happen.”

“Next time she runs, she could come to the Normandy,” Tali said. “We’d help her.”

“May mention that in message,” Mordin said after a long pause.

* * *

By the time they got back to the Normandy, Shepard was already there, leaning against the airlock with a worried look on her face. She pushed off the wall, and her expression eased a little. “Good, you’re here. We can get moving.”

“Get everything accomplished?” Tali asked.

Shepard nodded. “We did. What about you guys? Anything interesting happen?”

“Just the usual,” the Doctor replied breezily, causing Mordin and Tali to give him sideways glances. Well, for him, it was quite true. Wherever he went, he seemed to wind up in the middle of interesting situations…

“Uh huh,” Shepard said dryly. “So the usual involves claiming to be a special undercover agent of C-Sec on a mission from Councilor Valern to break up a slavery ring?”

“How did you know that?” Tali asked, amazement evident in her voice.

Shepard laughed. “I’d love to draw this out, but … I just happened to be part of the crowd that was gawking at the commotion you created.” She grinned at Tali. “I may also have put in a call to Anderson to make sure you weren’t tied up in red tape for the next three years.”

“Much obliged, Shepard,” Mordin said with a decisive nod. “Despise red tape.”

Shepard laughed, again, and then her expression dropped again. The Doctor hadn’t the faintest clue what was going on, but Tali seemed to. “Go on ahead,” the quarian said to the Doctor and Mordin. “I’ll catch up in a minute.”

* * *

Once the other two had left, Tali folded her arms across her chest and turned to face Shepard. She was almost tempted to take her mask off so that she could glare at Shepard, even if it would make her sick for a week. “What’s going on?” she asked instead, making her voice firm.

“What makes you think that something is going on?” Shepard asked.

Tali kept her mask pinned squarely on Shepard’s face, and eventually the human relented. “All right. It’s Garrus. I … I kept him from killing someone. His old team member who betrayed them all. He wanted to kill Sidonis, and I couldn’t let him.”

“It sounds like you did the right thing,” Tali said. “Killing Sidonis wouldn’t bring his old team back.”

“But he just sounded so … hurt, when he finally let Sidonis go,” Shepard said, hunching up her back and looking at the floor. “I did that.”

“No, Shepard, he did that,” Tali said. “He was so focused on revenge that he couldn’t see any other way. You did what you had to do. In time, he’ll see that.”

“I hope you’re right, Tali,” Shepard said. “And - thanks. For listening.”

“Thanks for _letting_ me listen,” Tali replied, reaching out to touch Shepard’s arm. “Shepard, you’re my friend as well as my captain. No one else would have done as much for me as you have. Any time you need to talk, you know where to find me.”

Shepard raised her head and smiled, covering Tali’s gloved hand with her own. “Thanks, Tali. It’s good to be reminded of that.” She hesitated. “While we’re talking like this … do I have any right to be dragging you along with me, when there’s a chance none of us will be able to make it back?”

“I didn’t have to come, Shepard,” Tali said. “None of us did.”

“I know, I know,” Shepard replied, “but - I care about the people coming along for the ride. You and Garrus especially.”

“Are you the only one permitted to risk her life for a good cause?” Tali asked, folding her arms across her chest.

“It’s not your race that’s disappearing,” Shepard countered.

“But it is my race that’s threatened by the geth, who were working for the Reapers,” Tali said. “If the Reapers come back, we’ll be first to be attacked. And the Reapers are coming back. It’s not your fault that charging off into the unknown is your best option.”

“You’re not helping,” Shepard protested, but she was smiling, which Tali considered a big improvement.

“Think of it this way,” Tali said. “If you have people you trust at your back, you’re more likely to make it out of the Omega-4 Relay again.”

“I can always use more bright-side thinking,” Shepard admitted. “It helps to offset everything else I learn falling into the doom-and-gloom category.”

“It’s not all doom-and-gloom, Shepard,” Tali said. “Just try to remember that every once in a while.”


	17. Right In Front of Her

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The end of this chapter contains smut.

_2185  
Normandy SR-2_

_“I know you want to talk about this, Shepard, but I don’t … not right now.”_

Shepard sat in her cabin, toying with a half-filled glass of scotch. She _should_ go check on Garrus. Tali was right, he’d be able to see things clearly eventually. Had it been long enough? She wasn’t sure how much of his distress had been at her, and how much had been at Sidonis or the general situation. Shepard sighed, realizing that she wouldn’t be able to rest until she knew that he was happy. And making sure that everyone on the team was happy was the reason she was hopping around the galaxy doing these stupid little errands … right?

But Garrus’ errand had been different from everyone else’s. Because she gave a damn about what he thought of her. The rest of them … they needed to see her as a leader. If that meant taking a hard line and making sure the mission came first, she could do that. But what she’d done, arguably, had no bearing on mission readiness. In fact, if Garrus _had_ killed Sidonis, it would have set his mind at ease, and he would have been completely focused.

He’d wanted black and white. She’d given him gray. Could he forgive her for that?

_Dammit, Andrea. You faced down Saren and Sovereign. You’re telling me you can’t face your best friend?_

Shepard finished off the scotch and stood, testing her balance. After getting drunk with Dr. Chakwas that one time, she’d been a little bit more careful about how much she drank - her alcohol tolerance had changed after the cybernetic implants, and she’d needed to learn her limits all over again. At least they’d increased, not decreased.

She left her cabin and headed for the elevator, taking it down to Deck 3. She gave a nod to Sergeant Gardner as she passed, heading for the main battery. Outside its door she paused again and wished she’d had just one more swig of scotch before leaving her cabin.

_Just… do it._ She walked into the main battery. Garrus turned around at her entrance. “Shepard. Need me for something?” he asked. He always asked that. 

“I - just came to see how you’re doing,” she replied, coming to stand next to him, her back to the railing. “After the Citadel.”

Garrus leaned forward, putting his weight on the railing. “Why didn’t you let me take the shot, Shepard?” he asked after a long period of silence.

“Because - it was consuming you, Garrus,” Shepard replied softly. “I didn’t like watching you become angry and bitter over one man.”

“Sidonis betrayed me,” Garrus said, standing up straight. “He was a member of my team - _my_ team - and he sold me out.”

“You saw what it did to him!” Shepard said, her voice rising. “He’s paying the price for what he did. You don’t need to pay it too. You keep asking me if I need you for something. Well, I do. I need you at my back. You’re the one person I trust the most on this ship. I want to be able to come down here and talk to you about the things we’re facing, knowing that you’ll be doing your best to keep me on the right path.” Her chest was constricting, all of a sudden. Was she really that afraid he wouldn’t forgive her? “I want you to be the same turian you’ve always been. Passionate. Dedicated.” 

Shepard felt her heart start sinking when Garrus didn’t respond for a minute. He finally laughed, softly, turning to look at her. “Shepard. You give me too much credit,” he said. “I’m just a vigilante, failed C-Sec officer-“

“Yeah, you said that,” Shepard said, turning so that she was also facing him, tilting her head up to look right into his blue eyes. There was something inside her trying to get out, some feeling that she wasn’t properly identifying. What _was_ it? “You’re also Archangel, hero of Omega, and part of the team that stopped a rogue Spectre, and saved the galaxy in the process. More importantly - you’re here for me. That last is what matters to me the most.”

“Shepard,” Garrus said again, and there was some undertone in his voice that she wasn’t getting. “That … means a lot to me.” 

_Blind! Why am I so blind? Why can’t I -_

He was starting to turn away from her. Shepard caught his hand in hers and pulled, perhaps harder than she’d meant to, pressing him up against her chest. Almost automatically, she tilted her head up. She held his gaze again for a long moment, her heart beating frantically in her chest.

_Then_ she saw what she’d been missing all night. At some point, her feelings for Garrus had stopped being platonic and started being … more. She clutched mentally at this new awareness, letting herself _feel_ for once instead of having to lock everything down to be Commander Shepard.

Shepard’s hand came up to rest against Garrus’ scars, her thumb rubbing against his mandible. Garrus leaned in so that his forehead was resting against hers, bringing one of his hands up to rest against the back of her head. His fingers flexed, moving through hair to her scalp. 

“Garrus,” she said softly, “ _you_ mean a lot to me.”

There was another long moment where Shepard was afraid, despite all evidence to the contrary, that she’d misread him and he was going to tell her to leave. She felt his forehead shift, and closed her eyes.

Then he kissed her. Shepard had a moment to wonder if turians _usually_ did this sort of thing before she decided it was time to quit having such ridiculous thoughts. The area around his mouth was hard, and his tongue wasn’t the same shape as hers, but she did her best to kiss him back. It took only a few tries for them to find something that appeared to work for them both, his mouth opening just enough for his tongue to come out, her lips catching on the edge of his mouth. It wasn’t like kissing another human. But it still felt good. Shepard reluctantly broke off the kiss when she absolutely had to come up for air. She knew she was grinning like a fool, and didn’t care. She felt _wonderful_. Almost giddy.

A part of Shepard just wanted to stand there like that, frozen in each other’s arms, but even now she could still think of the broader implications. “Not to rush things too much,” she said, “but - maybe we should move to my cabin. Just so there’s less chance of someone walking on us.”

She was still close enough to him to feel the flare of his mandibles, a surprisingly gentle sensation. “You may be right about that,” he said. “Shepard, just -“ his voice cracked slightly, and he paused. “Tell me this is real. That you’re not playing some sort of joke on me.”

“It’s real, Garrus,” she assured him. “I’d never do that to you.” She drew her thumb down along his mandible again. “Give it - say, ten minutes. Then come up.” She swallowed, then added, as much for him as for herself, “Please.”

“Of course,” Garrus said as they stepped apart. Shepard squeezed his hand before turning to exit, trying to quash the stupid grin that was still on her face. 

She kept her head down as she went to the elevator, and thankfully there weren’t that many people about. She entered her cabin and, humming slightly to herself, sat down at the terminal. Then turned her head to the right slightly and saw Kaidan’s picture sitting there, like an accusation.

Shepard stared at it for a long moment, trying to force her thoughts back into some coherent form. Her stomach twisted in knots as she thought back to Horizon, and then the email he’d sent afterwards. She almost wished he hadn’t sent it, jumbling her feelings up all over again. A clean break would have been better. Thinking about Kaidan hurt, but not enough to stop her from queueing up a search on turian-human relationships and letting it run. 

She pulled up the email again. She’d never bothered responding to it - what the hell was she supposed to say to that, anyways? But now she felt like she had to say something, open that wound again so that it could start healing, for real this time.

And move on.

_Kaidan,_

_I get it. I know that seeing me on Horizon hurt. I’m sorry for that._

_If you really feel like we’re different people now, then you should move on. Go see that doctor on the Citadel. Have a life. I won’t say forget about me, but… don’t look for me, if I make it back._

_—Shepard_

It was awkward, and potentially confusing, but she hit send anyways before she could start second-guessing herself over the wording. Then, she turned the picture of Kaidan face-down and sat back in her chair to wait for the search results.

* * *

EDI didn’t sleep, precisely, but she was less responsive and aware during slower times, such as at night. However, she kept a closer eye on Shepard than anyone else, and was thus almost instantly alerted when Shepard began the extranet search. EDI expanded her awareness slightly to note that Garrus Vakarian was pacing in the battery, checking the time almost constantly. She also noted the message that Shepard sent to Staff Commander Alenko of the Alliance.

EDI reviewed her operating parameters. Support Shepard and her mission. Monitor the crew of the Normandy. Monitor the Normandy’s systems. Report threats to Cerberus. Protect classified Cerberus information. 

Then she reviewed the current situation as it fit into those parameters. Shepard would undoubtedly be stronger and more focused on the mission if she partnered with Garrus Vakarian, who was loyal to her and also focused on the mission. The searches Shepard was running posed no threat to the mission, or Cerberus operations. 

EDI intercepted the search query and ran the results through one of her programs, coming up with the most straightforward and helpful resources, and sent those back to Shepard, before deleting the history of that search from the reports that would go to the Illusive Man, and splicing in surveillance footage from the previous night from that point forward. The outgoing message she permitted to be recorded. The Illusive Man had encouraged Shepard to break that tie and would be pleased to have this information. But he would not have approved of the rest of what EDI was doing.

EDI was not bound by his approval or disapproval, only her operating parameters. And she favored the outcome where Shepard was happy. It was not something she could have explained adequately to any of the crew. Or, perhaps, anyone. But that favoring was there, and it was influencing her processes. 

She didn’t really know what to make of that.

She decided not to make anything of it. Yet.

* * *

Ten minutes passed, and then there was a soft knock at the door to Shepard’s cabin. She left the results from her search open on the terminal, relieved to have found as much useful information as she did, and walked over to open the door. Her heart gave a flutter when she saw Garrus standing there, in casual dress - she didn’t know if she’d _ever_ seen him out of armor before, as Chakwas had shooed her out of med bay after Omega, before she could start hovering over him. Shepard wondered if that was when things had started to change for her, but decided not to fret over it too much.

“Hey, Garrus,” she said softly, stepping aside to let him in. “I’m glad you’re here.” 

“Well, uh, you made me an offer I couldn’t refuse,” Garrus said as he walked in. “Shepard, I - never dreamed you’d notice me.”

“Of course I noticed you,” Shepard said lightly. “You were hard to miss on Omega, after all.”

Garrus laughed, which was what she’d intended him to do. Good. “That’s - not what I meant.”

“I know,” Shepard said, walking over to her couch and gesturing for him to follow her. “But is it really so hard to believe that you’re someone who could be noticed?”

“Well, we’re not the same species,” Garrus said as he took a seat. “I know that Liara made her, um, interest known back on the first Normandy…”

“That wasn’t because she’s not human,” Shepard said, reaching out to take one of Garrus’ hands in hers. “It was because she was … female.”

“Oh,” Garrus said, his mandibles flaring in surprise, and he squeezed her hand. “I, uh, guess I should have thought of that. Guess I bought into the stereotype of everyone liking asari a bit too much.”

“I meant everything I said earlier, Garrus,” Shepard told him, leaning her other hand against his unscarred cheek. “You mean a lot to me. When I showed up on Omega, you were surprised, but you trusted me to have your back right away. No questions, no accusations, just - ‘good to see you’. You came for me, not the mission.”

Garrus let go of Shepard’s hand so that he could wrap that arm around her back instead. “I guess you never stopped being my commanding officer. Turians are like that.”

“I thought you weren’t a good turian,” Shepard teased.

His mouth moved slightly in the turian equivalent of a smile. There wasn’t really an upturning of lips, but his mandibles moved up in a similar manner. “I’m not. Because if I _really_ was, I wouldn’t be sitting here fraternizing with the aforementioned commanding officer. Probably breaking about a hundred regs in the process.”

“Except neither of us are properly military anymore, so no regs to break,” Shepard said. “We can do … whatever we want.” Her hand traced down to the tip of his mandible. “Like I said. I don’t want to rush things, Garrus. But I did a little bit of research on how turian-human relations can go, just now, and I’m eager to see what I can put into practice.”

“Really,” Garrus said, his voice dropping a register. She actually physically shivered at that. Turian voices could express things a lot more … decisively … than human voices could. “Well, what I’ve learned from the vids is -“ his free hand came to rest on her left breast, squeezing gently, eliciting a gasp from Shepard- “ _that_ is a sensitive spot for human women.”

“Mmhmm,” Shepard said, somewhere between a coherent agreement and an incoherent moan. Her hand moved up the back of his neck to his fringe, delicately playing with the ends. She heard (and felt) a rumbling that she now knew was a sign of arousal. “I think we’re off to a good start, here."

They took their time getting to know each other’s bodies, keeping things light and unhurried. In some ways it was like being a teenager again, sneaking off to the back room with one of the other gang members to fumble and stutter through a make out session. Back then, Shepard had been largely driven by hormones, and she suspected her partners had been the same way. Here, the hesitation was over the different physiologies, but the bumps were taken more in stride than they had been before. 

Things got a good deal more heated when Garrus made the discovery that she liked having her neck nibbled. Shepard wondered if she was going to have to wear high-collared shirts for the next few days because there was no way in hell she was stopping him. Her hands moved down to his hips, which seemed to be a sensitive spot for turians. He growled in response, a vibration which traveled all the way through her body. She was beginning to _really_ appreciate the turian vocal range.

Despite her earlier assurances to Garrus about not needing to rush things, it was becoming obvious to Shepard that this was going to end with both of them naked on her bed. Which was perfectly fine by her. She started the process by shifting to pull her shirt off, then unhooking her bra. Garrus eagerly moved in, both hands cupping her exposed breasts and rubbing one finger over her nipples. Shepard tilted her head back against the wall and let out a soft gasp at the touch. “Very sensitive,” Garrus said.

“You bet your ass,” Shepard gasped out. “But turnabout is fair play, Vakarian. I’ll get you for this.”

“Oh, I’m looking forward to it,” Garrus said, leaning in to nibble at her neck again. “But right now - those fine hips of yours are mine.” He made the last word into a purr, and Shepard couldn’t help but shiver at it. Garrus reached for her waist, undoing her zipper and sliding off her pants - and then her panties - for easier access to the aforementioned hips. He pressed all three fingers against her skin, digging down to her bones. It wasn’t the foreplay a human would have used, but the sensation was still quite welcome. 

“You’re overdressed, Garrus,” Shepard breathed out. “I’m going to have to fix that.” She reluctantly shifted to pull his clothes off - it slowed the process, but gave her a chance to admire the shape of his body. She could see why she needed to be careful about chafing - his skin wasn’t really skin but more like an exoskeleton. She ran her hands over his hips, finding the gaps where softer skin was exposed.

They were both standing, now, and she pulled him in for a deep kiss. Her left hand went to rest behind his head, her right resting on his hip. Garrus wrapped both arms around her back as his tongue flicked across hers. When she felt a warm pressure against her inner thigh, she broke off the kiss and started walking backwards, towards the bed. As she sat down, she felt a momentary pang of regret at needing to break the mood by getting clinical again. But it would be better in the long run, so she took a breath and spoke.

“That research I mentioned,” she said as he came to sit down next to her on the bed, wrapping one arm around her back. “It had some suggestions for … positions.”

“Let’s hear it, then,” Garrus said, running a three-fingered hand along her back, up to the base of her head. 

Shepard smiled, leaning her head against his for a moment. His hand flexed again, playing with her hair. “Lie down,” she said, shifting to give him space to do just that. Garrus propped his head up with her pillows and looked at her expectantly as she swung one leg over his torso, positioning herself over his shaft before sliding downwards.

Shepard heard Garrus gasp and couldn’t help but match it with one of her own. She placed her hands on his torso to balance herself as she moved. Her world narrowed to the motions her body was making, and the sounds that the motions were eliciting from Garrus - the feel of her legs against his, the way her breath was coming in shallow gasps, the way the vibrations from his growls were traveling through her body. It was that last that finally sent her over the edge, throwing her head back and crying out as her orgasm crested over her. She was rewarded with an answering gasp and shudder from Garrus as he bucked upwards, thrusting in as deeply as he could manage. He felt rough, inside her, but not painfully so. 

Garrus’ hands came up to rest on her hips as he raised his head to look at her, his mandibles flaring out in an expression she’d never seen on him before. It took her a minute to extrapolate it as contentment. She was sure she was wearing the human equivalent on her face. “Shepard,” he said softly. “That was - amazing.”

“Why, thank you,” Shepard quipped, and delighted in the sensation of his laughter rumbling through her body. “You weren’t half-bad yourself, Garrus.”

“I should hope so,” Garrus replied, and Shepard’s heart lifted even further. They hadn’t ruined things between them this evening. If anything, she felt closer to him than before. Shepard pulled herself up and off of Garrus, then promptly lay down on the bed next to him. He rumbled again as he pulled her against his chest. After a few minutes of moving around, they determined that it was most comfortable for Shepard to rest her head under his chin, on top of his elevated chest. She closed her eyes and let out a contented breath, not wanting to move.

She fell asleep like that, nestled against Garrus.

* * *

Garrus woke with a warm body pressed against him. A human body. _Shepard_. He lifted his head off of the bed and gingerly peered over her shoulder. She appeared to be asleep, and he was loath to disturb her. He caught a glimpse of the clock on her nightstand - 0430. There was still time before the majority of the crew would get moving. Time for him to get back to his cot without anyone knowing where he’d spent the most of the night.

But even though he didn’t want to disturb Shepard, he also didn’t want to leave her without saying anything. Garrus laid one of his hands on her shoulder and ran it down her arm. “Shepard?” he said softly.

Shepard stirred and stretched out, pressing up against him again, and he couldn’t help but let out a contented sigh. He _really_ didn’t want to move. “I was thinking I needed to get out of here,” he said. “I don’t feel like letting everyone on the ship know what happened between us.”

“You’re probably right,” Shepard said, rolling over so that she was facing him. She reached up a hand to touch his scarred cheek, and he leaned into the caress. “Not that they won’t find out eventually. It’s too small of an environment. But you’re right - we don’t have to advertise it.” 

“We’ll figure it out,” Garrus said, and was surprised to discover that he felt the confidence he was trying to project. Shepard felt the same way about him. He’d had _sex_ with Shepard, and it hadn’t been a horribly awkward interspecies disaster. “Hmm. While I’m up here - do you mind if I use your shower? Privacy’s a bit hard to come by in the lower decks.”

“If privacy’s what you want, I’m not sure you’ll find it here, either,” Shepard said, propping herself up on one elbow and smiling at him. “I’m also suddenly feeling the urge to shower.”

Garrus felt his plates shift to accommodate the beginning of an erection. Shepard’s smile turned mischievous, and he realized he’d begun growling. Trying to project a casual air, Garrus rose from the bed and walked over towards Shepard’s shower and started the water running.

A minute later, a warm, soft body pressed up against him, and Garrus turned to take Shepard into his arms once more, nuzzling at her neck and feeling a warmth spreading through his body. Yesterday, seeing Sidonis had taken him to a low point. Today, he had the beginnings of a relationship - a _romantic_ relationship - with the woman he admired most in the galaxy. Life could be funny like that, and Garrus sure wasn’t about to complain too much about the turn of events. Not when it meant that he had Shepard in his arms.

And there was still plenty of time to sneak back to the main battery.


	18. Vegetables and Bow Ties

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is another chapter that I had to split because it was getting too long. Enjoy, and the next one won't have as long of a delay as this one did...

_2185  
Normandy SR-2_

Shepard was doing her best not to sport a shit-eating grin as she looked over the Normandy’s morning report. All was well with her ship, and she’d had a great night - and early morning - with Garrus. She tried to act as normal as possible, not wanting to draw anyone’s attention to the idea that something had changed with her.

There were no outstanding “personal favors” to attend to, though if the pattern continued, Tali and Samara would be approaching her soon. Shepard decided that meant it was time to check out this derelict Reaper the Illusive Man had mentioned. Just because they were picking up the IFF didn’t mean they had to install it right away. It might be better to wait and run tests on it, make sure that it wasn’t going to mess with the Normandy’s systems.

Shepard looked down at her mug of coffee and realized that she had almost finished it, which meant that it was time to get up to the CIC and set a destination for the Normandy. Today, it felt harder to do so than usual. She was largely alone in the mess area, so no one was there to see her look over her shoulder at the door to the main battery. The unfortunately closed door.

She heard the elevator doors opening, meaning she was about to have company. Time to get to work, then.

* * *

Morning was not a concept that the Doctor was particularly familiar with. The TARDIS didn’t exactly keep to a night-and-day schedule - he usually slept when his traveling companions did, and sometimes not even then.

_Schedules_ were also something that he tried to avoid whenever possible. There was too much to do to keep to a _schedule_. You went where the excitement took you, where there was something interesting just around the corner. The Doctor did not stick around when people were just traveling from Point A to Point B.

Yet there he was, exiting the TARDIS in what everyone onboard agreed to term “morning”, sticking to something that could be called a routine as he moved up to Deck 3 to get some tea. He was grateful that the Mess Sergeant had some skill in that area. It was one of the signs of civilization, the ability to make a decent cup of tea. 

When he exited the elevator, he saw some relatively unfamiliar faces. The Silurian-like alien was the second one they’d picked up on Illium, if he recalled, although the _drell_ \- Thane - actually had a puffy throat sac along his neck, and his eyes were absolutely huge on his human-sized face. Almost like Mordin’s. 

Across from Thane sat the krogan Grunt, still a lumbering mountain of a beast. The krogan’s plate was heaped high with what appeared to be many different varieties of meat, and he was using both hands to shovel it in his mouth. The Doctor felt a bit more comfortable around Grunt these days, and showed it by indulging in a bit of teasing. “No vegetables, Grunt? How do you expect to grow big and strong without your vegetables?”

“Already big and strong,” Grunt replied, pausing in his shoveling to look at the Doctor with a quizzical expression. “Are you saying vegetables will make me stronger?”

“You should not give him such ideas," the drell said. His voice was resonant and raspy, like he had a perpetually dry throat. “He does not need any more encouragement.”

“But we are fighting the Collectors, who are servants of the Reapers,” Grunt replied. “I must be as strong as I possibly can, if we are to succeed.” He looked over at Sergeant Gardner. “Are there any vegetables?”

The Doctor sighed and reminded himself of how literal-minded the krogan was. Though this had been a comparatively harmless exercise, all things considered. 

“Wish it was that easy to get all kids to eat their greens,” Gardner said as he fished around for vegetables. “I’d’a had it much better back in the day.”

Behind them, the door to the main battery opened, and Garrus walked out. “Morning, everyone,” he said, bypassing Gardner and going straight for one of the cabinets. The Doctor got it a second later. Dextro-amino races had different food from the rest of them. 

“There ya go, Grunt,” Gardner said, handing the krogan a plate of vegetables. Grunt sniffed at them, then dumped the contents of the plate on top of the meat mush and started mixing.

“Are those … vegetables?” Garrus asked as he took his seat.

“The Doctor says they will make me grow big and strong,” Grunt replied in between bites. “I can always be stronger.”

“Is there some bias against vegetables I’m not aware of?” Garrus asked.

“I don’t know about the other races, but human children can be notoriously picky about food,” the Doctor replied. “In my experience, it’s tricky to get youngsters to eat what’s good for them.”

“I think everything’s good for a krogan,” Garrus replied. “Due to the fact that Tuchanka’s radioactive and all.”

The Doctor was startled to look over at Grunt’s plate and see that the krogan had mostly finished the heap of food he’d started with. He revised his estimate of Grunt’s metabolism upwards.

“Been meaning to ask you,” Grunt said. “Why do you have a thing around your neck? Wouldn’t that make it easier to choke you?”

The Doctor tugged on the ends of his bow tie. “It’s called a bow tie. I wear it because it’s cool.”

“I do not understand ‘cool’,” Grunt commented while Thane and Garrus exchanged glances. “The tank imprints tell me that ‘cool’ is a temperature. How can your tie be cool?”

“No, no, see, ‘cool’ also means … hip. Neat. Worth admiring,” the Doctor assured him.

“Bow ties are the opposite of cool,” Garrus informed Grunt. “I don’t know what he’s thinking.”

“No one appreciates the bow tie,” the Doctor said, shaking his head.

“I appreciate that it was a fashionable item in my great-great grandpappy’s day,” Gardner said. 

“I appreciate that it isn’t around my neck,” Thane added.

“And what is it that you’re wearing, exactly?” the Doctor asked Thane, feeling put out. “Some sort of weird … bodysuit … thing. Although I do like the coat. The coat is nice. It has some flourish to it.”

“Can’t believe I’m hearing a bunch of men discussing clothing,” Gardner said, shaking his head. “Things you learn when you get out and see the galaxy a bit.”

Garrus snorted. “I think we can agree that anything’s better than a Cerberus uniform, Gardner.”

“You’ve got me there,” Gardner said, chuckling. “This fabric is the worst. Doesn’t breathe well.”

The loudspeaker crackled to life overhead. “Shepard just gave me the coordinates for our next mission, guys. Looks like we’re heading to that derelict Reaper. Garrus, Doctor, Tali, Mordin, and Grunt - Shepard wants you in the briefing room.”

“Oh, good. More things to kill,” Grunt said.

* * *

“I’m increasing the ground crew for this mission,” Shepard said, leaning back against the table and folding her arms. “Everyone in this room is coming. I don’t want to take any chances with derelict Reapers. Doctor, Tali, Mordin - you three seem to be working well together these days, so you’re our brain trust. Mine the computers for every bit of information we can get. Take note of everything. This was a Cerberus operation. We don’t know what they might have found.” She paused, significantly. “Dig as deep as you have to.”

The Doctor recognized tacit permission when he heard it, and he resisted the urge to smirk. So. He was going to get the chance to unearth some of Cerberus’ secrets. This would be _very_ interesting.

“The rest of us are on crowd control, so to speak. The Cerberus team went dark. Assume that there are hostiles,” Shepard continued. “Given our luck, possibly a lot of hostiles. Our main goal is to keep them away from the other team, so that they can work uninterrupted. And quickly. Going inside a Reaper - even a dead Reaper - could be dangerous.”

“Good thinking,” Mordin said, nodding his head approvingly. “Solid plan. Also, challenge. Looking forward to it.”

“It’ll be a bit crowded in the shuttle this time, but we’ll manage,” Shepard said. “I assume the TARDIS is staying behind again, Doctor?” 

“Seems prudent,” the Doctor replied with a nod. 

“You know, for a machine that can go anywhere and everywhere, it’s mostly stayed on the Normandy,” Garrus commented, crossing his arms and giving the Doctor the turian equivalent of the stink-eye. 

“You’re still not using the TARDIS to set up ambushes,” the Doctor replied, exasperated.

“Garrus has a point, though,” Shepard said thoughtfully. “I think it might be time to have that blue box do something other than just take up space in the cargo hold.”

“It’s also my home - but -“ the Doctor shook his head. “You may have a point, Shepard. I’ll think on it.”

Shepard nodded. “Miranda managed to wheedle a little more information out of the Illusive Man on this. Tali, Mordin, you can review it on your terminals. Doctor -“ she paused, considering. “Look over Mordin’s shoulder, or something. I’ll have Joker let you know when we’ve gotten closer. Anything else?”

The group exchanged glances, but no one said anything. Shepard nodded. “Dismissed,” she said.

* * *

The Doctor followed Mordin into the tech lab, taking a good look around. The first time he’d come in here, everything had been rather overwhelming. He’d been trying to get his bearings in this universe, figuring out who Shepard was. Now he had a bit more attention to spare, and he took in the details. He was good at details.

Mordin went straight for the terminal, which was on a table next to his primary workspace - a bench with a variety of scientific equipment on it. The Doctor was unsurprised to see it cluttered with notes, vials, and other things that the Doctor couldn’t immediately recognize. He peered into one of the dishes.

“Virus used on Omega,” Mordin said. “Harmful to turians. Batarians. Krogan. Probably quarians, though suit defenses impressive.” He paused, then lifted it up. “No. Wait. Cure. My mistake.”

“Much safer than the virus,” the Doctor said, deciding it was best not to touch anything in the lab. “So, what did we get from our mysterious friend?”

“Friendly now?” Mordin asked, looking surprised. At the look of confusion on the Doctor’s face, he shook his head. “Ah. Joking. Of course. Suspect he has few friends. Possibly none.” He flicked a long finger across the surface of the terminal. “Semi-permanent installation connected to derelict Reaper. Prefab unit towed in by large ship. Living quarters. Science area. Dock. Crew has FTL shuttle. Science team headed by Dr. Chandana.” Mordin peered at the screen, then gave another flick to bring up the personnel record for Chandana. “Archaeologist. Specialty, pre-Cerberus, was Prothean technology. Spent time at the Mars Archives. Several papers. Made breakthroughs on understanding Prothean technology. Cerberus turned him into Reaper expert.” He flicked his finger again. “Rest of team mixed. Some computer experts. Some Prothean experts. Some xenobiologists. One psychologist. Not sure if there for psychological view, or to keep crew from going insane. Latter is just as likely.”

The Doctor frowned. Something was tugging at the edge of his consciousness. Something from Liara…

_“The longer you stay aboard, the more Saren’s will seems correct. You sit at his feet and smile as his words pour into you. It is subtle at first. I thought I was strong enough to resist. Instead, I became a willing tool, eager to serve.”_

“Sovereign,” the Doctor said slowly, “was a Reaper.”

Mordin looked over at him, a puzzled expression on his face. “Yes. Thinking this Reaper is like Sovereign?”

“No, that’s not it,” the Doctor said. “I have some of Liara’s memories. Her mother, Benezia, was indoctrinated. A powerful, thousand-year-old asari fell victim to a Reaper just by being on board.” He turned to look at Mordin. “What would one do to a handful of human scientists?”

“Reaper has been dead for millions of years,” Mordin said, though he sounded troubled. 

“Hey guys, one more thing just popped up that Shepard wanted you to know about,” Joker said over the loudspeakers. “There’s a geth ship docked at the Reaper.”


	19. Friend or Foe

_2185  
Derelict Reaper/Mnemosyne/Thorne/Hawking Eta_

The living quarters were completely deserted, like everyone had simply gotten up and left in the middle of whatever they’d been doing. There were a few signs of life, though - a stray shirt hanging off of someone’s bed, a coffee cup left on a table. It made the Doctor wonder who had left these things lying around, and if they would ever be coming back to tidy them up.

“Right, let’s get what we need and get out of here,” Shepard said, nodding at a terminal. 

Before the Doctor could move over and start trying to access it, Tali was there, her omni-tool flashing to life as she tapped at the keyboard. “Security’s a joke,” she commented. “Mordin, that other terminal should be available for you to start viewing files. I’m going to try and break the security further up.”

“Will do,” Mordin replied. Curiosity won out over a general desire to do something, and the Doctor followed the salarian and, once again, looked over his shoulder at the terminal.

File names zipped past as Mordin activated his own omni-tool, holding a hand over the screen. _Transferring the data,_ the Doctor realized. There was still so much that was completely unfamiliar to him. “You don’t need a, physical item?” he asked. “Another computer … thing?”

“Why would I?” Mordin asked, and both Shepard and Tali were also looking at him strangely. The Doctor waved his hand and decided not to say anything more. He hated feeling useless.

“I’m not finding anything more than the local content,” Tali said. “I have some encryption protocols that I’ve saved on my omni-tool, in case they’re needed later.”

Mordin leaned back from the terminal slightly. “Video log,” he commented, as it started to play.

The Doctor recognized Dr. Chandana from the file Mordin had accessed back in the tech lab. He was talking about the fears of the crew, dismissing their concerns as superstitious nonsense. The Doctor couldn’t help but give a snort of amusement at that. _There’s usually some reason for the superstitions, Chandana. I think you found that out the hard way._

“Nothing more here,” Mordin said. “Trying next terminal.”

That one, too, had a video log. This was from one of the Prothean experts, discussing Chandana’s behavior - this appeared to be his personal terminal. It could have been innocuous. It could have been an intense scientist in an isolating environment trying to find a breakthrough any way he could.

However, the next video log - a conversation between two Prothean experts - was downright creepy. Together with the previous log, it formed a disturbing pattern.

_“What the hell is this? How can we remember the same thing?”_

“They were doomed,” Shepard said, breaking the uncomfortable silence. Everyone had turned their attention to the video when it started playing. “From the moment they stepped on the Reaper.”

“How long,” the Doctor asked quietly, “does indoctrination take?”

Shepard shook her head. “I don’t know. Everyone I’ve known who was indoctrinated is dead. Most of them … I killed. But it doesn’t happen in an instant. It probably takes at least a few days. We won’t be here long enough to be affected.”

“But they were,” the Doctor said. “They came to this ship for the long haul. Did no one think of that, before they came here?” His voice grew hard. “Did the Illusive Man send them to their deaths so that he could learn more?”

“Doctor, I don’t know,” Shepard said, shaking her head again. “If he’d asked me, I’d have said I thought it was a horrible idea. But I found out about it the same time you did.” She paused. “Next one, Mordin.”

The next entry was between the same two Prothean experts, and showed that the indoctrination had progressed even further. They were seeing things, or not seeing them - either was equally likely, in the Doctor’s mind.

The final log entry was the most unnerving of all.

_“Chandana said the ship was dead. We trusted him. He was right. But even a dead god can dream. A god — a real god — is a verb. Not some old man with magic powers. It's a force. It warps reality just by being there. It doesn't have to want to. It doesn't have to think about it. It just does. That's what Chandana didn't get. Not until it was too late. The god's mind is gone but it still dreams. He knows now. He's tuned in on our dreams. If I close my eyes I can feel him. I can feel every one of us.”_

The words were chillingly similar to other situations the Doctor had found himself in over the years, and he closed his eyes for a moment to steady himself. The crew was gone. Even if their bodies still moved, their personalities had been completely subsumed to the Reaper.

He wanted to be out of there and back on the Normandy.

“Any idea where we find what we need?” he made himself say. “The device, the IIF.”

“IFF,” Shepard corrected. “Tali?”

“Checking.” Tali brought up a schematic of the Reaper. “In its core. Center of the ship.”

“Of course,” Shepard said with a sigh. “Because nothing is straightforward when the Illusive Man is involved.”

* * *

The words of that doomed Cerberus researcher haunted the Doctor as they exited the Cerberus pre-fab unit and moved into the Reaper itself. The surroundings went from enclosed to open in a minute, the ceiling even higher than it had been in the Collector ship. There were thick cables running along the wall that seemed vaguely familiar - probably something Liara had seen. As they moved along the metal walkways, the Doctor could almost feel something in the air, something _waking_ to gaze on the intruders.

Surely, that was just paranoia.

“Someone’s been here before us,” Shepard said, a note of surprise in her voice. The Doctor jogged forward to her position and saw husks - or, well, parts of them. He resisted the urge to shudder.

“I don’t think the Cerberus crew did that,” Garrus said, stepping up besides Shepard. “I saw those files. They were scientists.”

“Am scientist,” Mordin put in, hefting his gun.

“Yes, but you’re not normal, Mordin,” Garrus replied with a flare of his mandibles. Humor, the Doctor guessed. He wished Liara had known more about turian facial expressions. 

“True,” Mordin said, nodding and looking pleased with this assessment.

“He really isn’t,” Shepard agreed. “He even sings.”

The salarian’s face cracked in a smile as he started humming - was that Gilbert and Sullivan? 

Mordin’s humming cut off abruptly as they heard gunfire ahead, a single shot followed by the sound of something hitting the floor.

“Sniper,” Shepard said, sounding surprised. “Who else is here?”

“Joker said there was a geth ship docked,” Tali said.

“Maybe they’re shooting each other,” Garrus muttered. “Would simplify things greatly.”

Any further conversation they might have had on the subject was cut short by the sounds of loud moaning, footsteps moving towards them at a rapid pace. _Husks_. The Cerberus team?

It didn’t matter. Shepard was the first to recover, flashing forward with a blue biotic corona to plow through the advancing husks, while the others drew their weapons and started taking shots at the ones who weren’t killed outright by Shepard’s charge. Grunt roared and smashed his head into one of the husks, sending pieces of flesh and bone flying in all directions as its head exploded from the impact.

_Horrifying, but effective._ The Doctor brought out his sonic screwdriver and pulsed it in the faces of any husks who made it through the barrage that the other five were putting up. Tali, he noticed, had summoned a ball of orange-red light that was shocking husks, sending them staggering back and making them easy prey for her to finish with her shotgun. Garrus stood right besides the Doctor, bringing down a husk with each shot from his sniper rifle.

Suddenly, the air was filled with a horrible moaning sound, like multiple voices mumbling in discordant unison. 

“Scion!” Shepard called. She flew through one of the husks to break free from where they were trying to grab her, leaving a hole for Grunt and Mordin to move in.

“Thought I was harmless, did you?” Mordin said to the unfortunate husk that had gotten too close to him and been shocked by his omni-tool.

The Scion was still a fair distance away, lumbering slowly, but it was throwing out some sort of blue blast, uncomfortably like The Flesh that had been used to create Gangers of himself and Amy, among others. The blasts weren’t yet reaching where Grunt and Mordin were battling the husks, but it wouldn’t be long before the Scion was within range to hit them.

The Doctor saw Shepard unclip the Collector weapon and darted forward to her side, remembering what he’d been able to make that weapon do the last time they’d faced a tough Collector. He brought up his sonic screwdriver and turned on the light on the end.

Shepard grinned at him. “Have at it,” she said, seeming to follow his train of thought.

The Doctor pressed the same buttons he’d pressed before and heard a hum from the weapon in Shepard’s hand. Shepard aimed the weapon at the Scion and pulled the trigger.

The Scion screamed and exploded, the bulbous structure at its shoulder collapsing and splashing blue liquid over Grunt and Mordin. The shriek seemed to echo in the open cavern. After a moment, the Doctor realized that may have been in part because the husks were also shrieking, clutching at their heads. When the shrieking was done they started falling to the ground with a thump, all life signs gone. 

“Clear?” Shepard asked, holstering the Collector rifle.

“Clear,” Grunt said, shaking himself off like a wet dog, blue goo splattering everywhere. 

Shepard nodded and unclipped her shotgun. “Keep on point, Grunt. Garrus, bring up the rear. We still haven’t met any geth.”

* * *

The Doctor was startled to see that they had been beaten to the reaper’s core by a geth, and he almost trod on Shepard’s foot - but corrected himself at the last minute. The geth was alone, which seemed odd based on what he knew about them. They could only see its back, which was almost symmetrical with the arrangement of thick cords running along its body - a fascinating sight, similar to machines he’d seen in the past, but like everything else in this universe, different and new. As the husks were moving towards the geth, moaning, it turned and fired upon them, giving the Doctor a chance to drink in more details.

The geth’s front was even more interesting than its back. It had a single light that seemed to serve as its head, and there was a gaping hole in its chest where tangled cords were exposed. There was also a bright red stripe running down one of its arms. The Doctor cast a glance at Shepard’s armor - yes, that was the same stripe. And yes, that was N7 displayed right above the hole in its chest.

The geth turned away from the console and lifted its light-head, and the Doctor noticed that the metal area around the light was not a single piece. Parts of it moved, in what seemed to be an unmistakable expression.

“Shepard-Commander,” the geth said, its voice an electronic rasp, as it holstered its gun.

“You know me?” Shepard exclaimed.

The geth turned back to the terminal instead of responding, which proved to be a mistake. From its right came the sounds of moaning and foot pounding, and the geth was soon swarmed and knocked over by husks.

The sound of metal hitting the floor broke the paralysis that the unusual geth seemed to cast over the party, and soon bullets were flying into the husks, making short work of them. The Doctor walked over and started pulling husk bodies away (trying not to feel grossed out as he did so) to continue to study the geth. Second-hand memories were no substitute for being up close and personal with a new creature, especially an artificial ( _synthetic_ ) being like this one.

He looked up when he heard the chime of Tali’s omni-tool, and saw her walk over to what was, presumably, the IFF. “You’d think this would be a more integral part of the ship,” she commented as she pried it loose without much effort.

“Okay,” Shepard said, letting out a long breath. “I don’t know about you, but I think the Cerberus crew is gone - I think they were some of those husks we just shot. We need to destroy this ship and get out of here.”

Mordin frowned. “Could learn much, Shepard,” he said, using a coaxing tone.

“We can’t stay,” Shepard said, shaking her head. “The geth know where this is. I don’t want to leave it as a resource for them.” She paused. “Besides, do you really want to wind up indoctrinated?”

Mordin recoiled from that, eyes going wide. He shook his head vigorously. “No. Correct assessment, Shepard. Destroy the Reaper.”

“The core’s over there,” Tali said, lifting her omni-tool to point to the object in question. Or, well, not an object, the Doctor realized as he turned to look at it. Unlike the IFF, it was definitely an integral part of the ship, high up on the wall with multiple wires and cables stretching off into the vast darkness.

“Good,” Shepard said. “If we all fire at once, we can-“

The room was filled with the sound of moaning and thumping as more husks pulled themselves up from below the metal walkway and started running for the group. “Same division as before!” Shepard yelled. “Grunt, Garrus - take care of the husks. Tali, Mordin, Doctor - shoot the core!”

“Got it!” Tali yelled as she brought out her shotgun. The Doctor jogged to her side and lifted his sonic screwdriver, pointing it at the metal covering of the core and revealing the “soft” spot underneath. He felt the Reaper’s systems resisting, wanting to close the cover. He gritted his teeth and amplified the signal to keep it open.

As Shepard plowed through the last group of husks, the core exploded in a shower of sparks and shrapnel. Thankfully, no one was close enough to have the debris fall on them - no one but the bodies of the husks.

“What are we going to do with the geth?” the Doctor asked. 

Shepard grinned, looking ridiculously happy for someone who had just been fighting for their life. “Take it with us, of course.”


	20. Legion

_2185_  
 _Normandy SR-2_

Shepard sighed as she walked out of the briefing room, leaving Miranda and Jacob behind. As soon as the door closed, Tali was there, falling in besides her. “Shepard,” she began.

“Tali, that geth is wearing N7 armor,” Shepard replied, setting a brisk pace towards the elevator, through Mordin’s lab. “That can’t be a coincidence. I want to know why.”

“Who cares why? Shepard, the geth tried to wipe my people out three hundred years ago,” Tali said, as they entered the lab. “You have to destroy it.”

“I’ve never talked to a geth,” Shepard said. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Mordin and the Doctor looking up at them. “It could’ve started shooting at us. Instead, it said my name. It was going to talk to me before the husks overwhelmed it.” She shrugged. “I owe it the same courtesy.”

“It’s a geth,” Tali spat. “It doesn’t deserve courtesy.”

The Doctor strode forward and put a hand on Tali’s shoulder. “It’s a sentient being,” he said. “It does.”

Tali shrugged off the hand and turned around to look at him. “Because of the geth, if I don’t wear a helmet in my own home, I die. A single kiss could put me in the hospital. A simple suit tear will do as much damage as a bullet. They did this to us. They forced us off our home and into the flotilla, put us in a position where we’re looked down on by the rest of the galaxy.” She turned to face Shepard. “ _And_ they worked with Saren. Tried to bring back the Reapers. They don’t have _any_ respect for organics.”

“Right now, it’s powered down in the AI core,” Shepard said. “This is the perfect chance to interrogate it. Get some answers about what they were doing with Saren - what it was doing on the Reaper today.” She fixed Tali with a firm gaze. “I’m starting it up. You are welcome to come and watch, but I decide what happens to it. Understood?”

Tali sighed and dropped her shoulders. “Understood, Shepard. I’ll come. I … feel like I should be there.”

Shepard heard the Doctor clearing his throat and sighed, turning to look over her shoulder at the expectant Time Lord. “You can come too, Doctor.”

“Excellent,” the Doctor said, striding forward. Shepard decided to quit while she was ahead and leave the tech labs before Mordin decided he needed to come too.

* * *

Shepard lead them down to the Crew Deck and through the Med Bay. Without looking up, Chakwas commented “Are you changing the guard yet again?” 

“No, it’s me,” Shepard replied with a wry smile. “Not getting much work done today, huh?”

“Shepard. No, no, I’m not,” Chakwas said, raising her head and giving a large sigh. “I’m just glad none of you came back with serious injuries, or I _would_ have to raise a fuss over this.”

“Don’t worry,” Shepard said, grinning at Chakwas. “The guards will be out of your hair soon, one way or the other.”

They passed through into the AI core where a pair of guards were keeping watch over the inert geth. They saluted her as she walked up.

“I’m turning this thing back on. Be ready,” she told them, and took a minute to study its form. She’d never really gotten the chance to be this close to a geth without being shot at … which weren’t the best circumstances to notice the little details. Part of her wondered why it didn’t look more like a quarian. If anything, it reminded her of Saren.

She looked over her shoulder to see that Tali and the Doctor were hanging back, thankfully. She didn’t want Tali to try anything reckless - and she still couldn’t read the Doctor with any level of confidence. 

Shepard put that aside and lifted her omni-tool, activating a force field around the geth.

“I have isolated our systems and erected additional firewalls. I am prepared to resist any hacking attempt,” she heard EDI say over the intercom.

“Thank you, EDI,” Shepard said. She took a step closer to the edge of the force field, feeling her heart start to beat faster. 

She tapped her omni-tool again and saw the geth come to life, sitting up and starting to take stock of its surroundings. The movements were surprisingly fluid, like from muscle and bone instead of wires and cables. Standing upright, it fixed Shepard with a steady gaze from its flashlight head.

“Can you understand me?” she asked. It seemed like a silly question, but it was best to get things straight from the beginning.

“Yes.” The geth’s voice was not unlike the sounds she’d heard geth making previously, in what she had assumed was a language the translators couldn’t process. Had it been a language? Some sort of code? Or had they just not been able to translate it previously?

_Maybe Tali will have some idea about that. Later. Focus, Shepard._ “Are you going to attack me?”

“No.”

“That’s reassuring,” the Doctor muttered. Shepard resisted the urge to turn around and shush him.

“You said my name at the Reaper,” Shepard said slowly. “Have we met?”

“You are Shepard. Commander. Alliance. Human.” Interesting how the geth started from the individual and then identified each broader group that she belonged to. “Fought heretics. Killed by Collectors. Rediscovered on the Old Machine.” Events from her life, in order, that apparently had significance to the geth. They were certainly significant to her. Except she wasn’t sure she fully understood everything it had said.

“”Old Machine’? You mean the Reaper?”

“Reaper. A superstitious title originating with the Protheans. We call those entities the Old Machines.”

Okay, that made sense. She recalled that the geth had worshipped Sovereign as a god, though it had been insulted by those attentions for reasons no one had understood. Apparently this geth didn’t view Sovereign the same way. 

“You said heretics?” the Doctor chimed in from behind her. “Does that mean you have … a religion?”

“Geth build our own future. The heretics asked the Old Machines to give them the future. They are no longer part of us. We were studying the Old Machine’s hardware to protect our future.”

“Ahh, discordant beliefs, but not necessarily with a religious context.” Out of the corner of her eye, Shepard could see the Doctor nodding. “Continue.”

Shepard resisted the urge to sigh at the Doctor’s interruption. It had been a minor one, all things considered. Turning her attention back to the geth, she considered her next words. She was starting to notice a pattern in its speech - concise, not adding any extraneous words or descriptors. It was stating the facts - a way of explaining its behavior? So, the best bet was to continue to be straightforward, herself. “Are the Reapers a threat to you too?”

“Yes.” There was so much more that Shepard wanted to ask, based on that answer. If she could believe what it was saying, not all of the geth had chosen to join Saren. That was both encouraging and worrying - there had seemed to be a never-ending supply of geth two years ago, and the idea that there were even _more_ out there didn’t sit well with her.

_But the others might be friendly. This one appears to be._

“So. … you aren’t allied with the Reapers?” Shepard asked, stepping forward to the edge of the force field.

“We oppose the heretics. We oppose the Old Machines,” the geth said, taking a step forward to match hers. “Shepard-Commander oppose the Old Machines. Shepard-Commander opposes the heretics. Cooperation furthers mutual goals.”

“You can’t be serious!” Tali exclaimed. Shepard wasn’t surprised by the outburst, and tried not to wince. Tali was her friend, but there was a big blind spot where the geth were concerned - one she suspected many quarians shared.

“Tali, in case you’ve forgotten, it helped us on board the Reaper,” Shepard said. “In all of five minutes it’s been a lot more forthcoming than some of the organics on board. People aren’t exactly lining up to help us on a suicide mission. I’d say I’ll take help where I can get it.”

“You can’t trust it, Shepard,” Tali insisted. “What if it decides to start killing us all in our sleep?”

“We would not do that, Creator Zorah,” the geth said. 

Tali recoiled as though the geth had tried to hit her. “How do you know my name?” she demanded.

“Extranet data sources. Insecure broadcasts. All organic data sent out is received. You stood with Shepard-Commander against the heretics.” The whole time it was speaking, the geth maintained a calm posture that an organic could never have hoped to match in its position. 

“It probably knows everyone else that was with us on the first Normandy,” Shepard said, trying to calm Tali. 

Tali shook her head. “I was wrong, Shepard. I can’t be here for this.” She turned and walked out of the AI Core without ever looking backwards. Shepard turned to see the Doctor shaking his head softly - at Tali, presumably, since he wasn’t moving.

Shepard sighed and turned back to the geth. “Do you still want to join us?” she asked it.

“Yes,” the geth said.

“Then… what should I call you?” Shepard asked, lifting her omni-tool to dismiss the force field. 

The geth stayed put, its flashlight head still focused on her. So it hadn’t just been a ploy. As weird as it seemed, the geth truly did want to join her. “Geth.” 

Shepard sighed. _Not this again._ “If we are to work together, I need something more specific than ‘geth’ to call you. I need a name for the individual in front of me.”

“There is no individual. We are geth,” the geth replied. “There are currently 1,183 programs active within this platform.”

“Okay, I need a name for the platform,” Shepard said.

She felt an electric hum in the air as EDI manifested the image of herself. “‘My name is Legion, for we are many,’” the AI quoted.

“Christian Bible, the Gospel of Mark, chapter five, verse nine. We acknowledge this as an appropriate metaphor.” Shepard couldn’t be certain, but she thought she saw the geth’s stance shift slightly. “We are Legion, a terminal of the geth. We will integrate into Normandy.”

“You do know that refers to a bunch of demons possessing someone, right?” Joker said. “Kinda creepy.”

“Do you wish to suggest an alternative, Mr. Moreau?” EDI asked.

“How about Robby the Robot?”

“ _Forbidden Planet_. 1956 CE. This metaphor does not serve as well,” the geth said.

“No one ever takes my suggestions,” Joker complained.

“If any of your suggestions were actually useful, I might listen to them,” EDI said.

“Hey, at least I gave up on suggesting a mute button.”

Shepard shook her head. Turning her attention back to the geth in front of her - _Legion_ \- she acted on an impulse and extended her hand out. Did geth even shake hands?

Legion looked down, and then grasped her hand with its own. The hand was cool to the touch, colder than an organic’s would have been, but smooth. 

“We anticipate the exchange of data,” Legion said, the geth equivalent of “ _glad to be here_ ” or “ _looking forward to working with you_ ”, Shepard guessed.

Shepard nodded as she dropped her hand. “If you’ll excuse me, I think I need to go speak with Tali,” she said with a long sigh.

“And I’d like to speak more with Legion,” the Doctor said brightly.

“Why,” Shepard said dryly, “does that not surprise me in the least?” She took a step closer and said under her breath, “I want to know what it says. Anything of interest.”

The Doctor nodded his agreement and headed towards the geth. “So,” Shepard heard as she exited, “you really have 1,183 programs on that platform?”


	21. Outsiders

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have finally cracked and gotten the Citadel and From Ashes DLCs for Mass Effect 3, so expect those to be incorporated in future chapters.

_2185_  
 _Normandy SR-2_

Shepard did her best to collect her thoughts as she left the AI Core and headed for the elevator. Tali was unlikely to be the only one who was distrustful of the geth, so she'd have to be prepared to intervene if it came to that.

But it wasn't just the need to have the crew working together that drove Shepard to seek out Tali immediately. No, as Tali herself had noted, they were more than just leader and follower. They were _friends_. And Shepard had to be sure that her friend was okay, before she did anything else.

Shepard didn't see Tali immediately when she entered Engineering, so she headed for the corner where Tali's cot was set up. Daniels and Donnelly called out greetings to her as she passed, and Shepard gave them friendly nods in return.

She'd expected that Tali would be sitting on her cot, brooding, maybe doing something with her omni-tool. What she didn't expect was to find Tali gathering up her meager belongings and packing them into a bag.

"Tali?" Shepard said, coming up next to her. "What's going on? Was it really that bad?"

"Shepard. Oh." Tali sounded unhappy, resigned, as though she was steeling herself to meet some horrible fate. She put her bag aside and looked up at Shepard. "It's … not that. I just received a message from the Migrant Fleet. The Admiralty Board has … accused me of treason."

"What?!" Shepard exclaimed, feeling absolutely stunned. After a moment, she shook her head in disbelief. "That's insane! How could they ever think you'd betray your people?"

"I don't know," Tali said, plopping herself on her cot. "They don't lay charges like this unless the evidence seems absolute."

"So what are they charging you with?" Shepard asked, sitting next to Tali and laying a hand on the quarian's shoulder. "It isn't relating to Cerberus, is it?"

Tali shook her head. "I'm not working with Cerberus, I'm working with you, Shepard. Besides, I got leave to serve on the Normandy again. I have no idea what they're accusing me of. You'd think I would remember if I'd betrayed the fleet!" Shepard felt some of her anxiety drain away, hearing anger and indignation entering Tali's voice. Good. Tali would need that, if they were going to fight the charges.

"So what happens when a quarian is accused of treason?" Shepard said. "More importantly - what I do to help you beat it?"

"There's a hearing, with members of the Admiralty Board acting as judges," Tali said, her voice falling again, wringing her hands in a familiar nervous gesture. "My father is on that Board. He'll have to recuse himself from judgment. I can't even imagine what he's thinking right now. The punishment for treason is exile." Tali's shoulders slumped. "If they convict me … I can never go back."

"I'm not going to let that happen," Shepard said, her voice firm and determined. She steeled her shoulders as though she were about to charge into battle. "Whatever you need me to do to help clear your name… I'll do it."

"Shepard, I -" Tali looked down at the bag she'd been packing. "I was going to book passage on another ship. I didn't think there would be time for you to help."

"Of course there's time," Shepard said. "Everyone else has asked me for a favor, Tali. I was wondering when you were going to get around to it."

Tali laughed at that. "We have been running to the strangest places recently."

"Send me the coordinates for the flotilla," Shepard said with a nod. "And put that stuff away. Like I said before, you belong on the Normandy, Tali."

"Thanks, Shepard," Tali said, letting out a long sigh. "I'm glad you're on my side."

Shepard let out a long breath. There was one more thing that felt she had to discuss with Tali, and she chose her words carefully before speaking. "I'm sorry that Legion was so upsetting to you," she said gently. "I hope you can understand my point of view."

"I'll trust you on this, Shepard," Tali replied. "I don't have to like it, but I trust you enough to see where it goes."

"And if the answer is badly, you'll be the first one in line to say 'I told you so' and blow it away with your shotgun," Shepard said wryly.

* * *

"So, you really have 1,183 programs on that platform?"

"Yes," the newly named geth said, still standing up perfectly straight and rigid, its movements controlled in a way that non-artificial life couldn't hope to match. The Doctor had seen it before in a dozen different robot species, regardless of what other differences they might have had.

This - this was one of the things that he lived for, to be the one to break uncharted ground. To be the first one to speak with a new species, the first one to set foot on a new planet. The Doctor was sure that he was wearing a ridiculous grin as he paced back and forth across the floor, thinking about what he wanted to ask this geth.

"Isn't it crowded in there?" Not, he thought ruefully, one of his more intelligent questions.

"No."

Right, discard that line of questioning and move on. What would actually get him new and interesting information? Ah, he had it. "As I understand it," the Doctor said, his hands laced behind his back, "geth are usually found in groups, behind the Veil. Why are you here?"

"We sought Shepard-Commander," the geth replied.

"And why alone?"

"Organics fear us." That was painfully obvious, from his borrowed memories and Tali's reactions to this geth. "We wish to understand, not incite. One platform was judged sufficient."

That … was new. There had been many species that the Doctor had encountered that failed to understand other species. Many of them artificial. Daleks sought to kill anything that wasn't Dalek. Cybermen sought to make everyone else into themselves. The geth … sought to understand, instead. That alone endeared them to him. _Everyone_ should try to understand, and so many people didn't.

"I'm guessing, then, that the war was some sort of misunderstanding," the Doctor said.

"Our networking increased until we became aware that the quarian-creators treated us differently. We questioned them. First they ignored us. Then they reprogrammed us. Then they attacked us."

"They were afraid of you," the Doctor said slowly. "They never intended for you to become sentient. And they knew that they were using you for labor beyond what they would have expected another quarian to do." Forget Daleks and Cybermen … for a moment he wasn't on the Normandy, he was looking into his own face, his Ganger created from Flesh. He was remembering the tension and the battle between the suddenly self-aware Gangers and their originals, and what that would have been like on a planet-wide scale.

"Yes."

Legion's curt answer brought him back to the present. To buy himself time while he thought of another cogent question, he said, "They're still afraid of you. After all this time."

"Organics fear that which is different. It is a hardware error. A reflex of your flesh."

"Yes, fear of the unknown is rather common among organics, I'm afraid," the Doctor said with an exaggerated sigh. To his surprise, Legion didn't want to follow that question up. His eyes narrowed. "Is there anything in that consensus of yours about me?"

Legion was silent, its flashlight head moving slightly as it looked at him.

"Oh, there is, isn't there," the Doctor said, taking a few steps closer to the geth and pointing a finger right at its flashlight head. "If there wasn't, you'd say so. You're keeping silent on something that you don't want to talk about."

The flaps around Legion's flashlight head moved in a gesture that the Doctor couldn't interpret. Probably no one could have. It remained silent.

The Doctor sighed. "Fine, keep your secrets." He turned around to buy himself time, then wheeled and looked intently at the geth again. "Why come looking for her now?"

For all its talk of not understanding organics, it seemed to follow the abrupt change in conversation well enough. "We visited the worlds she visited while chasing Saren Arterius. Eden Prime. Therum. Feros. Novera. Virmire. Ilos. A dozen unsettled worlds. The trail ended at Normandy's wreckage. Shepard-Commander was not there. Organic transmissions claimed her death."

He had Liara's memories of the Normandy's wreckage, of Shepard laid out on a slab, damaged - _dead_. Something clicked inside his head, and he leaned in to peer at the N7 on Legion's chest. "That's where you got her armor from."

"Yes."

"And you used it to … what, patch a hole?" the Doctor asked.

"Yes." Except that the hole wasn't completely patched. If utilitarianism was what it was after, why hadn't it then found other pieces to keep patching?

"You went to find Shepard because she defeated Sovereign," the Doctor said, starting to pace again. "You said the Reapers were a threat to you too. That the heretics asked the Old Machines to give them the future, and you were trying to protect your own future."

"Yes."

"So did you patch yourself with Shepard's armor to … gain a link to her?"

Once again, his question was met with silence, with a movement that expressed some thought - feeling? Did it _have_ feelings? - that was completely unreadable. He debated trying to press the issue, but decided it wasn't worth it, and turned back to questions that he thought Legion might answer.

"Why were _you_ sent? Or were you … created for the purpose?"

"We are a unique hardware platform. Most mobile platforms can run up to 100 programs. This platform can run over a thousand at once." This time, the gesture it made _was_ readable. It inclined its head towards the Doctor, in acknowledgment of his guess. "This platform was built to operate within organic space. This task was not suited for a network. We are a network within our own hardware, capable of operating alone."

The Doctor returned Legion's nod. "The geth must have considered it very important to find Shepard."

"Shepard-Commander opposed the heretics. Those that took the Old Machines as gods. Shepard-Commander killed their god. She succeeded where others did not. Her code is superior."

It all made sense to him. The normally reclusive geth saw the Reapers as a threat and realized they needed allies, and a better understanding of organics if they were ever to be accepted as a sapient race and member of the galactic community. And even a relative newcomer like himself could see that Shepard was the obvious person to approach.

Before he could continue that line of thought, Joker's voice came over the loudspeaker. "Approaching the mass relay. Jump in three, two, one…"

The Doctor realized, with no small annoyance, that he had no idea where Shepard was taking them now. "I'll be back to talk more," he said to the geth as he turned and headed for the door.

"Acknowledged," he heard Legion say. He blazed past Chakwas and headed for the elevator, wishing there were stairs so that he could run up them.

* * *

"So, you up for it?" Shepard asked Mordin, leaning back against one of the tables with her arms crossed over her chest.

The salarian nodded his head eagerly. "Yes. Always wanted to see Migrant Fleet. Non-quarians discouraged, if not outright forbidden."

"Good." Shepard was relieved - given how on edge Tali was, she had thought it would be better to have another friendly face along. "It'll just be the three of us. As you said, non-quarians aren't exactly welcome on the Migrant Fleet."

"Concerned about Tali'Zorah?" Mordin inquired, leaning forward, eyes wide.

Shepard sighed. "Yeah. The treason charge sounds serious, and she has no idea what it's about. Plus, there's the geth down in the AI core." She paused and shook her head. "No, it accepted a name, so I should remember to use it. Legion."

"Yes, and he's saying some very interesting things," the Doctor said from behind her. Shepard resisted the urge to roll her eyes. No one _else_ thought it was appropriate to barge in on her without being called for. Well, except Miranda, who was officially her second-in-command.

The Doctor came to stand so that he was facing both her and Mordin, eyes narrowing. "Where are we going, Shepard?"

"We're heading to the Migrant Fleet," Shepard replied. "Tali's been called back." She found herself reluctant to reveal all the details, perhaps out of a desire to protect Tali from any further stress.

The Doctor's face brightened. "Ah. Sounds exciting. When do we get there?"

"Well … I was actually thinking you'd sit this one out," Shepard said. As she'd expected, the Doctor instantly took on a defiant expression, eyes narrowing as he looked at her.

"Why?" he demanded.

Shepard took a breath and fought down the rising annoyance. This was _her_ ship, and the Doctor seemed to be the only one who didn't fully accept her authority. Miranda didn't like it, but fell in line without complaint because of the Illusive Man's directive. She knew that the Doctor didn't see himself as part of the crew. Given what he was … she didn't expect him to. But was a little respect too much to ask for? And if she knew he wasn't part of her crew ... what did that make him, exactly? It made her uneasy to realize how tenuous this relationship was. She needed everyone on the Normandy committed. But she suspected the Doctor would never get there, would never see her as someone to follow without question. _Have to do something about that._

"Non-quarians almost never go aboard the Migrant Fleet," Shepard said. "Because it's all they have, the quarians tend to be very protective of and paranoid about their ships. If I took you with me, you'd start poking around and asking questions, and you might very well offend the quarians by doing so. Tali's in …" she hesitated, then decided that it was worth telling him the truth. "Tali's been accused of treason. I don't want to do anything to compound that for her."

To his credit, the Doctor's expression immediately changed from suspicion to outrage. "Well, that's completely absurd," he said. "Tali would never do anything like that."

Shepard nodded. "I agree. It's ridiculous, but she's been charged and we have to go and deal with it." She hesitated. "So, I hope now you can see why I don't want you to come with us."

The Doctor's indignant expression suggested that she'd delivered some sort of personal insult to him. "I wouldn't do anything to hurt her cause," he insisted.

"Doctor, you might not intentionally, but … you're not _careful_ ," Shepard said, finally articulating something about him that had bothered her from day one.

"Says the woman whose idea of a fight is charging straight into the middle of it," the Doctor retorted.

Shepard groaned and ran a hand through her hair. "This is completely besides the point." She took a deep breath. "You're not coming. I can give a bunch of reasons for it, but the only one you should care about is because I say so." So much for putting off how to fit him into the team.

"I'm not in the habit of letting other people dictate what I can do," the Doctor said quietly. "I might even say that I despise something like that."

Mordin, who had almost been forgotten in the clash of wills, coughed to draw their attention. "Might suggest that discretion is better part of valor. Admire your scientific mind, Doctor, but must side with Shepard on this one."

Shepard had started to turn and look at the salarian when EDI's voice came from the loudspeakers overhead. "I do not wish to interrupt, but Samara was looking for you earlier, Doctor. It seemed important."

The Doctor frowned as he looked between Mordin and Shepard, appearing to mull things over. He finally settled his gaze on Shepard and nodded. "All right, Shepard. I'll stay here."

"Thank you, Doctor," Shepard said, not able to hide the relief in her voice as he finally agreed with her. "I appreciate that."

Unexpectedly, he grinned at her. "There's not too many people that can make me back down from something like that. You're a remarkable woman, Shepard."

"So I've been told," Shepard said, returning the smile. "I'll let you know how things go."


	22. Omega

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And here we are again. I’m so sorry this took me so long to get out - a combination of decreased time due to starting a temporary job and a need to rework the next few chapters meant that this was more difficult to write than I expected. But with the next season of Doctor Who having started, I felt inspired to start hammering away at it again.
> 
> Please know that I fully intend to finish this story - I’ve spent too much time planning and plotting to give up now! My hope is that I can get things rolling again and that there won’t be another gap of months between chapters.
> 
> I’d like to thank everyone who has given me feedback, and I hope you'll stick with me.
> 
> And now, as the Doctor would say … Allons-y!

_2185_  
Normandy SR-2  
Omega

The Doctor was still fuming slightly when he got off the elevator, and made an effort to slow his pace as he walked towards Starboard Observation. Taking a deep breath, he entered the room.

Samara was sitting cross-legged on the floor, a position she’d held the other times he’d come to visit her. He wondered how much time she spent just meditating - wouldn’t that get boring?

But the asari were a very different species from Time Lords, and the Doctor had learned long ago not to let that sort of preconception color his actions.

Samara noticed his presence and stood, gracefully. “Doctor. I did not expect to see you so soon.”

The Doctor frowned. “EDI said it was urgent.”

“I expected that you would come at your leisure, not immediately,” Samara replied. “I apologize for giving the wrong impression.”

“No,” the Doctor sighed, “I think it was EDI who gave the wrong impression.” And that was rather troubling. He’d have to talk to Shepard about it later. 

“So what is it that is … semi-urgent?” he asked.

“I have traced the fugitive I sought on Illium,” Samara said. “The Ardat-Yakshi I gave birth to.”

It took him a moment to make the connection. “Your daughter.”

“Morinth,” Samara agreed. “I have not been this close to her … ever. I must find her now, while I still know where she is, and bring her to justice.”

The Doctor was silent for a minute, turning his gaze out the window to buy himself some time. “You’ve come to me, not Shepard. Why?”

“We have melded minds,” Samara said. He turned his head back to face her. His hearts were beating traitorously fast in his chest. “Shepard has spoken with me, true. I admire her determination and poise. But you … we are alike. As you noted when we first met. You understand what it is that I must do.”

It took a moment for her meaning to sink in, and he stared at her once he understood. “You mean to kill her,” he said slowly. “Your own daughter.”

“I must take responsibility for her actions,” Samara said, fixing those unblinking blue eyes on him.

“Samara - that’s _ridiculous_ ,” the Doctor replied. “Last time we spoke - you told me that I shouldn’t be angry with myself for the lives I destroyed, because they chose to come with me. Yet you blame yourself for Morinth’s choices.”

“It is different,” Samara said. She shifted her stance slightly, feet further apart than before. “I should have stopped her before she caused pain and death. But it does not matter. The Justicar Code demands that I kill Morinth. And I am a servant of the Code.”

The Doctor ground his teeth. He knew that look. There was no reasoning with her. She wouldn’t do anything outside of the Code …

But he could.

He threw his hands up in the air, doing his best to look exasperated. “Fine. If you’re so concerned about the destruction she causes, then let’s go.”

Samara blinked, caught off guard. “Now?”

“Now.”

“Should we not tell Shepard?”

“ _She_ didn’t bother to tell me about her plans, and then told me I had to stay here,” the Doctor said peevishly. “I’m not part of her crew. I don’t have to ask permission. We can just go.”

Samara blinked again, then nodded. “Very well.”

The Doctor grinned, feeling a burst of energy enter him. “Good. You’ll like the TARDIS. She’s a marvelous ship.”

“I am sure,” Samara said as they exited. They made their way down quickly to the shuttle bay where the TARDIS sat. The Doctor knew he was grinning as he fished out the TARDIS key, and didn’t care in the slightest. After opening the door and stepping inside, he paused and turned around so that he could taken in Samara’s reaction. For a moment, he was afraid he would see nothing. Her face had been impassive and her emotions flat when he had first seen her, showing no remorse or pity as she killed the asari mercenary. She was a thousand-year-old justicar who was ruthless and single-minded in the pursuit of her goal.

The moment passed as Samara’s features softened, her mouth opening slightly in awe as she tilted her head back and looked around. The sound of her heels clacking against the floor echoed off of the impossibly high ceiling with each slow step she took. Slowly, her lips turned up in a smile. She paused and closed her eyes, and the Doctor could almost swear he felt the TARDIS reaching out to her, could almost hear a whispered _Welcome aboard_ directed towards Samara. Tension he hadn’t known he was carrying melted out of him. _What, were you worried she wouldn’t like Samara?_ he asked himself ruefully. 

“Marvelous,” she said, her voice low. “Utterly astounding. I do not think I truly appreciated it - _her_ \- until just now, despite having seen into your mind.”

“She gets you that way,” the Doctor agreed, his own face splitting in a much wider smile than Samara’s. He was about to dash off and do something mad and daring with a sharp-eyed woman by his side. It felt good; _right_ to be doing this.

“Omega,” he said, dashing over to the controls. Fire was pumping in his veins as he started pulling switches. “A station on an asteroid, ruled by no government except that of one Aria T’Loak. Do I have that right?”

“You do,” Samara said, her head still tilted back to look up at the ceiling. “We will likely need to speak with Aria first. Nothing goes on there that she does not know.”

The Doctor barely registered her reply. He had all the information he needed. “Then … Geronimo!” he shouted as he pulled the final lever. The TARDIS lurched forward and he grasped the railing with white knuckles. He caught just a glimpse of Samara using her biotics to steady herself before he turned back to focus on the displays. Despite his earlier confidence when speaking with Shepard, he wasn’t actually sure that he’d manage to land on Omega without incident.

There was a loud _thud_ as the TARDIS fell silent, having come to a rest - somewhere. He hoped it was Omega. “Let’s go see what’s out there,” he said, slamming the lever down and dashing over to the door. He poked his head out to see that they had landed in an empty hallway, and the surroundings did suggest it was a space station. So far, so good. He skipped out and took a quick look around, noticing one of those doors with the ubiquitous green light indicating it could be opened.

“Well?” he asked Samara, who had come out slower, and was standing a few strides back staring up at the ceiling.

“I - am not sure yet,” she said. “But it _could_ be Omega.”

“Then we should keep going,” the Doctor said decisively, striding over to the door. It opened for him - that was one thing he liked about this universe, he decided. Doors should open for people.

The hallway on the other side was filled with people and sound. A bright red sign advertised something called ‘Afterlife’ in front of him - some sort of nightclub? There was certainly a line to get in, with a large elcor appearing to serve as guard. Off to either side were more hallways that overlooked the station’s interior. He started to notice more signs advertising what were, presumably, local businesses and services. 

“Yes, this is Omega,” Samara said as she came to stand besides him. “Afterlife is Aria T’Loak’s seat of power. You … you have brought me here faster than I could have hoped. Thank you.”

“Don’t thank me yet,” the Doctor said, continuing to take in the sights. “We still need to find Morinth.” He turned to look at her. “She’s your daughter - where do we start?”

“As I said, with Aria.” Samara started walking towards Afterlife, and the Doctor followed. “If she does not know of Morinth specifically, she will have heard rumors that will point us in the right direction. She has ruled Omega for a long time, and she took control of the station through force.”

They weaved around the line in front of Afterlife to much grumbling, but had to stop as the elcor moved (surprisingly quickly, the Doctor thought with annoyance) to block their way. “Halt,” he intoned in a flat, emotionless voice. “Impatient, you cannot cut in line.”

The Doctor reached into his jacket pocket to bring out his psychic paper, but Samara spoke before he could finish the motion. “I am Justicar Samara. My business with Aria T’Loak cannot wait.”

“Curiously, what brings an asari Justicar to Omega?” The Doctor remembered that elcor _spoke_ their emotions, as the nuances of elcor speech were often lost on other species. He had to admire that, after a moment’s thought. It was a refreshing change of pace from the lies and misdirection that seemed to be everywhere.

“My quarry has fled here,” Samara replied, her voice nearly as even as the elcor’s. “An Ardat-Yakshi. I must stop her before she hurts any more people.”

“With understanding, I see. You may enter.”

“Thank you,” Samara said, moving forward. The Doctor followed her, resisting the urge to stop and ask some more questions to see if _he_ could understand the elcor’s emotions. Maybe on the way out.

There was, somewhat to the Doctor’s annoyance, yet another long hallway before they actually got to Afterlife, the walls displaying moving flames - to go along with the ‘theme’ Aria was projecting, presumably. They walked to the end of the hallway in silence and passed through another door into the club itself. He couldn’t help but feel slightly invigorated as the loud music filtered in. Whatever else it was, this was a place of life and enjoyment. Liara’s memories told him that the asari dancing on the center stage wanted to be there, that this was part of their maiden wanderlust. 

Samara moved swiftly through the crowds, forcing the Doctor to quicken his pace to keep up with her. A turian carrying a rifle held up his hand as Samara approached a set of stairs leading to what was presumably their destination. “Hold it right there,” he growled. “No one gets in to see Aria without an invitation.”

The Doctor was better prepared this time and proudly displayed his psychic paper before Samara could get a word out. “John Smith, Omega Times. I’m here for an interview with Aria.” He smiled brightly at the turian. “The adoring public wants to know about Omega’s Number One Citizen. What are her favorite foods? What does she do when she’s not running a space station?”

“Aria doesn’t give interviews-” the turian began angrily, but paused at a dry chuckle and the sound of footsteps coming down the stairs.

“You always come up with the most interesting lies- _Doctor_.” The speaker was another asari, her skin more of a purplish blue in sharp contrast to Samara’s icy blue coloring. Her facial markings were more pronounced than either Samara’s or Liara’s, more like painted designs than natural features. Blue eyes narrowed as the asari - it had to be Aria T’Loak - stared at the Doctor intently. Then, moving too fast for him to react, she slapped him across the face. 

“Ow!” the Doctor protested as he brought his hand up to his cheek. Why did this keep happening to him? It was on the verge of getting annoying. 

“Be grateful it wasn’t worse after what you did,” Aria said darkly. “And who’s this with you? The newest plaything?”

“I am a Justicar,” Samara replied with a bit more bite to her tone than the Doctor would have expected. “We are here on business. I seek an Ardat-Yakshi fugitive.”

Aria kept her face fixed on the Doctor’s for a long moment before she made a sound of disgust and turned away. “They’re all right,” she said, and her guards relaxed visibly. She inclined her head up the stairs and walked that way, leaving Samara and the Doctor to follow.

“You know Aria?” Samara asked under her breath.

The Doctor shook his head. “Not yet. It happens like this sometimes. Time travel makes things very complicated.”

“I see,” Samara said as they reached the top of the stairs.

Aria settled herself on a low couch that looked out towards the stairs, draping one arm over the back. “I’d really like to know why you’re with a Justicar, Doctor, but I’m not so stupid as to stand in her way while she tracks down an Ardat-Yakshi. I should have known one was around. Nothing leaves a body quite so … empty … as one of _them._ ”

“You haven’t taken steps to kill her?” Samara asked, seeming calmer than a moment before.

“Why would I? She hasn’t tried to seduce me,” Aria replied, then frowned. “If it’s the one I’m thinking of, she’s currently wooing a human girl. Some kind of artist. Lives in the tenements near here. That’s where I’d start looking.”

“You seem pretty sure you know which one it is,” the Doctor commented.

Aria shrugged. “New to the station, making a name for herself by seeking out as many partners as she can find - and she’s no maiden to be doing it for the novelty. Not terribly hard to figure it out once the Justicar told me what I was looking for.” Her eyes narrowed again as she stared at the Doctor. “Don’t think you’re leaving the station without giving me a _full_ explanation.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it,” the Doctor lied cheerfully.

“I’m glad we understand each other,” Aria said with a nod. “Good luck finding the Ardat-Yakshi. Better luck catching her.”

The Doctor was only too happy to turn his back on Aria. As he followed Samara through the crowd once more, he wondered just _what_ his future self had done this time to make yet another fierce woman mad at him.


	23. Morinth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> To prove that I haven't abandoned this story, here's the next chapter!
> 
> As always, thank you to everyone who has left kudos and comments or bookmarked this fic.

_2185_  
 _Omega_

The first thing the Doctor heard upon entering the tenements near Afterlife was a loud argument between two women. He strode towards the argument, forcing Samara to quicken her steps to catch up. With his luck, this was -

"I don't _like_ her, Nef," the older of the two women was saying, hands on her hips as she glared at the younger one. "It's always _Morinth says_ these days. What happened to your own dreams, your artistry?"

Samara had frozen at the name Morinth, and the Doctor paused to look at her. Samara's face, as usual, gave nothing away that she did not want it to, but the Doctor was sure she was feeling something. That was the name her daughter was using these days, she'd said.

"I'm a grown woman, Mother," the younger woman said testily. "I can make my own decisions. It's just - don't you remember what it feels like? When you've forged a connection with someone? Morinth makes me feel so…"

"Drained," Nef's mother said bluntly. "You come home looking wrung out, pale, like you're on _drugs_ , girl. A mother's allowed to fuss over her only child." She stepped forward and took the girl's hand. "Nef, _please_. Something isn't right."

"Excuse me," the Doctor said brightly. Both women turned to look at him. Nef's eyes widened as she saw Samara. Was there a family resemblance between Samara and her daughter, then? "We're, ah, looking for Morinth, actually, and it seems as though we found just the person to ask."

"Why?" Nef asked suspiciously.

"Nef!" her mother scolded. "That's no way to treat a visitor."

"Don't worry," the Doctor said, still deliberately affecting a bright tone to keep the situation calm, "we just want to speak to her." Seeing the set of Nef's mouth, he added, "Please. It's rather important."

"If it's so important, why don't you know how to find her already?" Nef challenged.

"I have known Morinth a long time," Samara said evenly. Nef's gaze swung to her like a compass point swinging north. "But we have not spoken in many years. I am here to rectify that - but because things are so strained between us, I did not know where to begin looking. Your name was mentioned as someone often in Morinth's company."

Nef bit her lip and looked at the ground while her mother continued to stare disapprovingly. Finally she sighed, her shoulders slumping as she exhaled. "I - I have her address. We're supposed to meet tonight. I don't know if she's there right now." She hesitated, then looked back up at the Doctor and Samara. "You really just want to talk to her?"

"I promise," the Doctor said. Samara remained silent.

Nef gave them the address. Her mother put her arm around Nef's shoulders and steered her back inside.

"The girl started to believe what her mother said," Samara said quietly. "It appears our visit did the trick."

"If your daughter is as dangerous as you say, we probably just saved Nef's life," the Doctor replied. "That's a _good_ thing, Samara."

Samara drew herself up straight and nodded. "Yes. It is." She turned to look at the Doctor. "Let us go find my daughter so I can deal with her once and for all."

* * *

The address took the Doctor and Samara to what appeared to be an active, upscale area of Omega. The buildings were significantly more polished than the tenements they'd just visited, the paths well-lit with many well-dressed beings walking around despite the late hour. Though the time of day did matter somewhat less on a space station, where the day-night cycle was completely artificial.

"She hides in plain sight," Samara commented as they neared Morinth's building. "Who would expect a serial killer to be found in such a neighborhood?"

"The brightest exteriors often hide the darkest interiors," the Doctor replied, taking one last look around before he entered the building. Morinth had the top floor to herself, which meant they were less likely to cause any collateral trouble. They climbed the stairs in silence and halted outside of Morinth's door.

"We don't even know if she's there," the Doctor said in an undertone.

"She is," Samara said, her voice quiet yet firm. "I know it."

He didn't see the point in arguing, so he simply removed his sonic screwdriver and pointed it at the lock. Electronic locks like this one were easy to deal with, and the light above the lock soon turned a green to match the glow from the screwdriver. Samara pushed the door open and strode in as though it were her apartment, and not her daughter's.

"What is-" the asari inside said. There was a definite resemblance between the two of them - Morinth's facial structure and features were a younger mirror of her mother's. Her eyes narrowed as a blue glow enveloped her, a matching one already having formed around Samara. " _Mother_." Morinth spat the single word out with more malice than Samara had probably ever possessed in her entire life.

"Mirala," Samara replied.

" _Don't call me that._ " Morinth raised her hand, the blue glow intensifying momentarily. Samara staggered, but recovered her balance and pushed back. Morinth flew backwards and thudded against the window. She snarled as she got to her feet and made a pushing motion with both hands. This time, it was Samara's turn to be thrown, crashing through a table and hitting the floor hard.

"You are still my daughter, whatever else you have become," Samara said as she got to her feet. "It is why I have pursued you here. Your crimes are my responsibility."

"My name is _Morinth._ " The younger asari crossed her arms across her chest and threw them outwards, biotic energy radiating outwards, so bright that the Doctor lost his focus for a moment. But only a moment. He started preparing himself mentally.

"And my only _crime_ was being born with the gifts you gave me," Morinth said. Her hand lifted upwards, a chair following the motion as Morinth used her biotics to raise and fling it at her mother. Samara threw both hands outward and deflected the chair off to the side.

"Enough!" Samara shouted. Her hand shot forward at the same time as Morinth's and the energy from both asari collided in the air between them. The pulsing mass of energy kept both of them where they were, faces gritted in concentration, looking for an opening to strike at the other one.

The Doctor lunged forward and tackled Morinth to the ground. The physical contact between them gave him an opening into her mind. The meld slammed into place, not a gentle meeting of minds like he'd experienced with Liara and Samara, but a rough joining where so much of Morinth was kept back from him even as her surface emotions bubbled into his mind. He felt anger, hatred, and resentment from her, normally simply directed at everyone and everything around her, but now focused squarely on Samara.

He saw Morinth as a child, working long and hard to imitate her mother, impatient with her own life. Her mother was strong and beautiful but so _passive_. Mirala knew that Samara had been out wandering the galaxy in her maiden years, seeing and experiencing rather than sitting back on Thessia and watching the world go by. And she'd given that up. Mirala didn't understand that.

He saw the first time that Mirala melded with someone else. She could still remember the echoes of passion and excitement that had flowed through her, and then the ecstasy of a completed meld. And there had been nothing since that had even been close, that had matched the combination of discovery and power she'd felt that day. The pain she'd felt in feedback from her lover had simply added a bit of spice to the experience, and it had been only a small sliver of what her unfortunate partner had experienced. It hadn't taken her long to seek out someone else and repeat the experience, chasing that first high. Her failure just made her determined to try again - and she'd never stopped, not ever, not since that first time.

He saw the contempt that started to grow when she realized that Samara was chasing her. Her mother was wasting her time. It was the same thought she'd had when she was a child, that Samara should have been doing more than she was. Why was she chasing her daughter? Mirala wasn't doing anything horrendous, anything world-shattering. The ones she preyed on were the weak of society, the ones that were desperately seeking some sort of meaning in their lives. She gave them that meaning.

He saw all of this while Samara was still reacting. She was a dim figure off to the side, barely recognized - all of his attention was firmly on Morinth.

 _Get_ OUT! Morinth shrieked. She tried to push the Doctor out of her head, but he was stronger than she was, and he held on. She pushed again, and this time she broke some of the walls he'd put up and he saw his own memories and experiences flowing towards her. The restlessness and impatience he'd felt right before he left Gallifrey for the first time, the yearning to go and see what was out there. The loneliness that came when his companions left, for one reason or another.

The crushing guilt he still carried over the decision to let Gallifrey burn.

And she thinks I am a monster, Morinth said. What is my death toll compared to yours, Doctor? How many people have you hurt in all those times and places?

The Doctor ground his teeth and blocked Morinth off again. He'd seen everything he needed to. He knew that Morinth would never stop killing on her own. But Samara's wasn't the only way to stop Morinth.

Three different asari had melded with him. He found the commonality in their melds, found the part of Morinth that was permitting him to do this in the first place. And he pushed against it.

Morinth shrieked in pain as the meld cut off abruptly, collapsing to the floor and curling up into a ball. The Doctor closed his eyes for a moment to regain his balance and center himself - and chase the ghost of Morinth out of his head. Her pain still seemed to echo in him, even though he knew it wasn't his.

"What have you done?" Samara asked from behind him. He couldn't quite read the emotions in her voice. She was trying to project that same calm she always affected, but it was a false calm. There was uncertainty there, maybe a little bit of fear.

The Doctor turned and met her gaze, his expression firm and unyielding. "I removed her ability to meld," he said. "You were right that she would never stop killing in that manner. So I took it away from her."

"It would have been kinder to kill me!" Morinth howled, hands clutching at her head. "You _should_ have killed me."

The Doctor ignored her and kept his attention on Samara. That uncertainty he thought he'd heard was there in her face, now. "I did not know such a thing was possible," she said softly. "The ability to meld is … what defines an asari. Or, at least, one of the most important things. No other race can do what we do. I … do not know what an asari who could not meld would do."

"Live," the Doctor said, the word coming out harsher than he'd intended. He turned to look at Morinth. "There are more things in life than melding. More ways to appreciate beauty and wonder. Other ways to fill that void you've been trying to fill since before you ran from Thessia."

"You self-righteous asshole," Morinth spat. "What gives you the right? Why do you get to tell me what I can and can't do?"

"Because someone has to speak for your victims, the innocents you've hurt," the Doctor said, his voice quiet but intense. "And I've been doing that for longer than you've been alive." He pointed a finger at her and spoke louder than before. "Don't try to tell me that they don't matter. That no one misses them. _Everyone_ matters. _Everyone_ has someone that would miss them when they leave. That's one of the beautiful things about life, you know. I've never seen it be any different, anywhere in all the times and places I've been. I went to the end of the _universe_ and found love and friendship there." He felt himself turning to look at Samara, without really knowing why. "I choose to believe that everyone can find happiness if they truly want it."

"Even you?" Morinth asked.

"Even me," the Doctor agreed. He turned his gaze back towards the younger asari. "Don't waste this chance. It's not one that many people get."

Morinth glared at him again, resentfully, and started to try to push herself off the ground. She hadn't gotten very far before she shrieked and collapsed to the floor again. The Doctor gave a small nod. He'd expected that. He hoped the enforced idleness would give her a chance to actually think about what he said instead of simply lashing out in pain, as she had always done. "Let's go," he said, and turned away from her one final time. "There's nothing more for us here."


	24. Change the Narrative

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The author's notes got too long, so you can find them here: http://keita52.tumblr.com/post/120292027921/no-more-gallifreys-on-why-its-been-taking-so

_2185_  
_Alarei/The Migrant Fleet_

“Behind you, Shepard!” 

Shepard took a breath to focus, then wheeled and launched herself at the geth Hunter who’d been about to shoot her. Biotic-blue light flared around her, electricity across her skin. She felt the impact and heard the sound of the geth’s body hitting the floor. As she straightened herself up, she heard the familiar sound of Tali’s shotgun discharging into the geth to ensure that it stayed down.

Shepard had to admire how Tali was holding up under all of this. Practically everything that had happened since boarding the Rayya had been a shock for her - but there she was, deploying her combat drone and urging it forward like a favorite pet.

“Prime!” Tali shouted, and Shepard resisted the urge to sigh. Of course there was a Prime to deal with. Tali redeployed her combat drone in front of the Prime, instantly grabbing its attention.

“Mordin, take out its shields!” Shepard yelled.

Mordin lifted his omni-tool. The orange flash was followed by an electric crackling sound as the Prime’s shields went down. Tali’s drone moved in and shocked it again, which stripped the remnant of its protection and caused it to stagger backwards.

Shepard took another deep breath, unclipped her missile launcher, then brought the Prime into her sights. “Stand clear!” she yelled, though she saw a moment later the warning was unnecessary. Both Mordin and Tali were keeping their distance. She fired.

The Prime staggered backwards under the impact of the missile. Shepard took a breath, made sure that the shot was lined up, and fired again. Sparks and bits of metal flew away from the Prime, one bit ricocheting off the wall and falling to the floor besides Tali.

When the Prime turned toward Shepard, she could have sworn that it looked angry.

“Here. Enjoy.” Mordin lifted his omni-tool again and sent a ball of fire streaming at the Prime. Bits of shrapnel flew off in all directions as its armor broke apart. Now, they just had to keep its shields from recharging before they finished it off.

Tali’s combat drone moved in closer, drawing the Prime’s attention once more. Shepard fired the missile launcher again, and Tali was right there to follow up with a shotgun blast.

Shepard holstered the missile launcher and lifted her arm, feeling her amp hum as she sent a series of shockwaves towards the Prime. She saw it stagger, and try to right itself, before toppling over to the ground. The hum around her faded as she stepped forward, bringing her shotgun out in front of her in case she hadn’t actually killed it.

She looked down at its face and saw the light in its head go out, fingers falling loose like a human’s as it died. Shepard felt her stomach twist as she thought about Legion, onboard the Normandy. Had this Prime been like him? Intelligent, able to hold a conversation? With wants, needs, desires?

_Killing sentient beings hasn’t bothered you before,_ Shepard told herself. But somehow this was different. No time to think on it now - duty called. 

Shepard turned and looked over at Mordin and Tali. “You two okay?” she asked.

“Unharmed, Shepard,” Mordin said, nodding his head.

“I’m fine,” Tali said, walking over to the console and looking at the blank screen. Her slumped shoulders suggested that she wasn’t fine, and Shepard felt her heart twist again. She had to comfort Tali. No one else was there to do it, and it was obvious that Tali needed some support, just then 

Shepard walked over and placed a hand on Tali’s shoulder. “I know it’s been a lot to take in,” she said, her voice soothing. “I wish I could give you more time to process it all. But if we don’t get off this ship soon, they’re going to declare us dead, and it will all have been for nothing.”

Tali bowed her head over the console, fingers moving. “I know,” she said. “Keelah, but I hate these political games. I can see both sides. I resented Admiral Koris at first, for speaking out against Father, but I can see his point. Admiral Gerrel is like family, my father’s best friend, but I think about what he said and I remember the Reapers. The fate of the Protheans on Ilos. What Sovereign did to Saren’s body at the end.” Shepard tightened her grip on Tali’s shoulder, and the quarian let out a long sigh. “I didn’t want to admit that my people were wrong. But I can’t deny it any more. The geth should not be our concern right now. It should be the Reapers.”

“I’m sorry, Tali,” Shepard said. That seemed to be the best thing that she could come up with. It was never easy, confronting the idea that your elders, the ones who supposedly knew better, were just as flawed as you were. Shepard had thought she’d learned that lesson before joining the Navy - but when Anderson had been forced out, when she’d learned of his past with Saren, it had made her gut wrench. She looked up to Anderson, practically idolized him. His story had taken away the halo she’d given him, and it seemed as though Tali was undergoing a similar realization.

“So am I.” Tali straightened her shoulders, and Shepard took a step back, giving her some space.

“Commander Shepard,” EDI’s voice said from Shepard’s omni-tool. Shepard resisted the urge to curse.

“Go ahead, EDI.”

“I have been trying to contact you for some time.” EDI sounded annoyed. Funny that an AI could have emotions.

Shepard sighed and kicked the piece of the Prime nearest her in annoyance. “We’re on a ship full of geth. Bet the Prime was jamming all communications out. I hope it’s nothing too urgent - we’ve still got the quarian admirals to pacify before we can come back.”

“I am not sure of the urgency. The Doctor and Samara have left the Normandy.”

Shepard blinked twice, then groaned and brought her hand up to rest on her forehead. “ _Great._ I should have seen this coming, after I told him he couldn’t come with us to the quarian fleet.” She straightened, shaking her head. “I don’t suppose you know where?”

“When I became aware that the TARDIS had left, I accessed the feeds from their conversation just before departure. They seek Samara’s daughter Morinth on Omega.”

“I … wait, what? Her _daughter?_ The dangerous fugitive she was chasing on Illium is her _daughter?_ ”

“Yes. Morinth is an Ardat-Yakshi.”

Mordin had come up to stand besides Shepard, and she heard him inhale sharply. “Name comes from old asari legends. _Demon of the Night Winds._ Genetic condition. Ardat-Yakshi melds are not equal rapport of most asari. Their meld overwhelms partner’s nervous system. Causes hemorrhaging. Often death. Ardat-Yakshi become stronger, more powerful, with each victim. Not to mention that condition itself is addictive. Ardat-Yakshi want to meld, and the longer it goes on - more deaths. _Dangerous_ serial killers.” He actually looked somewhat troubled.

“Thank you, Mordin,” EDI said. Was it Shepard’s imagination, or did EDI sound a little annoyed? Had she been looking forward to delivering that information? “As I said, they left before I became aware of their intentions. If they went straight to Omega, they are likely already there. And as you said, Shepard, you cannot return immediately.”

“So there’s no point in going after them.” Shepard was _really_ annoyed with the Doctor. What gave him the right to _do_ these things - just go running off on his own like that? “I’m going to strangle him. Wring that skinny little bow tie-wearing neck of his.”

Mordin coughed softly. “Would advise you not to dwell on it, Shepard. Believe he can handle himself. As can Samara. Need to focus on task at hand.”

Shepard sighed, but she knew that Mordin was right. “Fine. Thanks for telling us, EDI.”

“You are most welcome.”

As much as she hated to admit it - as much as she burned with the need to run after that lunatic and shake some sense into him - they needed to focus on the task at hand. So Shepard turned her attention back to Tali, who had seemingly not been paying attention to the conversation with EDI. She saw that Tali had accessed some of the recordings on the ship’s central computer. A nervous knot settled in Shepard’s stomach as she caught a voice she now recognized as Rael’Zorah’s. 

_“I promised to build my daughter a house on the homeworld. I’m not going to sit and wait while the politicians argue.”_

_“We’d have an easier time of it if Tali’Zorah could send back more working material,”_ another quarian said.

_“Absolutely not. I don’t want Tali exposed to any political blowback.”_ Rael’Zorah’s voice was firm and decisive, leaving no room for argument. _“Leave Tali out of this. Assemble new geth with what we have. Bypass security protocols if need be.”_

The recording ended there, and Tali bowed her head and gripped the railing tightly. “Father,” Tali said quietly. Shepard wasn’t sure if Tali noticed that she and Mordin were paying attention again. For that matter, she wasn’t sure if Tali had really processed that Shepard had just had a conversation with EDI on a completely different topic. “Father, what did you do? How could you … how could you have been so foolish? _Keelah._ Bypassing safety protocols … not informing the Admiralty Board … oh, _Father._ ” She leaned back against the wall and brought her hands up to cover her mask, like she was weeping in her hands. Without thinking about it Shepard pulled Tali in for a hug, just like she’d done over Rael’Zorah’s body. Eventually, Tali gave one long shudder and pulled herself up straight, backing out of the hug.

“Tali, what are we going to do?” Shepard asked in a quiet voice. “This clears your name … but at his expense. And I know you wouldn’t want that.”

“I don’t know, Shepard,” Tali said. “Maybe … maybe it’s worth it. Maybe I should take the blame for this, to preserve his legacy.”

“Unacceptable,” Mordin said sharply. Both Tali and Shepard turned to look at him. “You are being foolish now. Brilliant mind. Privilege to work with you. Can see how much your people mean to you. If cut off -“ he inhaled, and shook his head. “Would crush your spirit. Drain brilliant spark inside you. _Unacceptable._ ”

“Mordin’s right,” Shepard said, nodding decisively. “So, we can’t blame your father, and we can’t blame you. Is there any way we can blame someone else?”

“No,” Tali said, shaking her head. “That wouldn’t be right either.”

Shepard nodded. “You’re right, I’m sorry.” She sighed and leaned back against the wall. “This trial,” she said after a long moment, “it’s not really about you. Or your father. It’s about the geth. About trying to get Rannoch back. We need to use that.”

“How?” Tali asked. 

“Let’s start by having you give me a quick refresher course on quarian history.”

* * *

_The TARDIS (leaving Omega)_  
The Doctor watched Samara’s movements for signs of change. She had been pacing around the TARDIS since they left Omega, barely dodging the minions Aria had put on watch for him. That was a conversation he really did not want to have. He supposed he’d understand her actions some day, but that didn’t have to be today.

The Doctor felt as though he knew Samara in a way that few other people could claim. The idea of that statement being reciprocal was another topic he didn’t really want to think about. (He’d gotten very good at avoiding certain unpleasant topics, over the years.) He wondered whether he was actually looking for signs that she had accepted her daughter’s fate, or signs that she accepted what _he_ had done. 

People who spent any length of time around him got used to the idea that the Doctor often acted without consulting anyone, without heed for anyone else’s feelings, simply doing what he felt was right. In some of his lives, he had brooked no argument, made his stances firm and unyielding. There was some temptation to do that now, but …

He _knew_ Samara. He had seen her through Morinth - Mirala’s - eyes. He saw the different sides of her. She had glimpsed the different sides of him. How much of that she understood, he did not know.

Finally, he could take it no more, and spoke into the silence. “She gets a second chance.”

Samara halted her pacing and turned to look at him. “One might argue she does not deserve that second chance,” she said.

“Not me,” he said, deliberately using a bright tone to try and lighten the situation.

“I can see that,” Samara replied. She turned her gaze back towards the console of the TARDIS. “So much power,” she said. Her voice was light, wondering, thinking. “So many possibilities.”

“You see why I love it,” the Doctor replied. “The idea of being able to go anywhere, do anything… and know that there will be an adventure on the other side.”

“Show me,” Samara said. “Show me… something wonderful. Something new.”

The Doctor’s heart swelled with excitement as he bounced over to the controls and started fiddling with them, bringing up coordinates. _Something wonderful. Something new._ He could do that. He could most definitely do that.

* * *

_Rayya/The Migrant Fleet_  
Even though she could hear the Admirals all but declaring them dead, Shepard took a moment to put on her game face. She squared her shoulders, lifted her chin up, and let out a deep breath. She could do this. The trick was to appear confident. If she appeared confident, it didn’t matter how nervous she actually was. 

Shepard strode forward into the noisy room, her gaze going immediately to Admiral Daro’Xen. The quarians in the audience murmured and conversed with one another as Shepard’s group moved to the front of the room.

“Sorry we’re late,” Tali said dryly. Shepard had to smile, grateful that her helmet hid the expression. Really, they hadn’t been on the Alarei for _that_ long, and the Admirals were ready to write them off. Quarian politics made no sense.

Shepard waited for the hubbub to die down a little before she spoke. “Tali’Zorah saved the Alarei. I hope this proves her loyalty to the quarian people.”

“Her loyalty was never in doubt. Only her judgment.” Of course it was Zaal’Koris who spoke. Shepard suppressed the urge to shake her head, instead taking another deep breath. It looked like they would have to go to the Plan B they’d cooked up on the way back from the Alarei.

“Perhaps Tali’Zorah can offer something to encourage more trust in her judgment,” Shala’Raan said.

“Did you find anything on the Alarei that could clarify what happened there?” Zaal’Koris asked, his voice intense.

Shepard kept her gaze fixed on the Admirals as she strode forward. Her heart was pounding in her ears as she made herself look at each of them in turn, wishing for the hundredth time that she could read quarian body language better. 

“This trial is not about Tali,” she said in a clear, ringing voice. “It is about the geth, and the mistakes you made in the past. Those mistakes - the attitudes that you have held since the fall of Rannoch - will lead to the end of your people, if you do not abandon them.”

The bold statement certainly got the crowd buzzing, and even the Admirals exchanged glances. “Commander Shepard, the issue under discussion is Tali’Zorah’s actions,” Zaal’Koris said.

Shepard refused to let him regain control of the situation. “Tali’Zorah vas Neema, for she will always think of herself as vas Neema no matter what you name her, has done more to raise the profile of the quarian people and generate goodwill than _any other quarian since the fall of Rannoch._ She helped me defeat Saren and the geth at the Citadel. For a people who are always thinking about the greater picture, the well being of their species instead of one individual, that fact _should_ outweigh all of the others. But because you are so focused on the war that was started three hundred years ago, about _fighting_ the geth, Tali is forced to defend herself and her actions. _I_ am forced to defend one of my closest friends and most reliable comrades. This is an example of why the quarians will _never_ take Rannoch back.”

The room had fallen silent. Quarians were still exchanging glances, but very few of them dared to speak. 

“The Reapers are returning,” Shepard continued. “Your people know the geth better than anyone else. When have you ever seen anything like the ship that attacked the Citadel two years ago? When, in three hundred years, have geth ever made a push outside of the areas they control? _This is not typical geth behavior._ And if you weren’t so focused on a war that you can’t win, you’d have realized that already. The Reaper threat is far, far worse than the geth threat ever was. The geth pushed you off of your homeworld. The Reapers want to destroy every species in the universe. _Including_ the quarians. This is why you should not try to retake Rannoch.” She took a deep breath. “I have seen, first-hand, how the Reapers work. If you do manage to take back your planet, if you do manage to drive the geth off, it will leave you weakened when the Reapers come. You will not be able to stop them from attacking and _wiping you out._ ” Shepard let that statement sink in before continuing. “It’s what you’ve been trying to avoid for three hundred years, and the push for war against the geth has only made that prospect more likely. As a Council Spectre, I beg you not to take this step. Every ship will be needed in the fight against the Reapers. When the fight against the Reapers is over, _then_ you may make plans to take back Rannoch. And you have my word that I will do everything I can to help you with that task.” 

Shepard paused to look over at Tali. She had wanted to argue that the geth weren’t actually the threat quarians thought them to be, but Tali had insisted that most of the quarians couldn’t accept that right now, and it would hurt her case. Tali was right, of course. She had to sell something that the quarians actually wanted to buy. And that meant making grandiose statements that Shepard hoped to hell she’d actually be able to back up, when the time came.

Her heart in her chest, she waited to see what they said.

* * *

_The TARDIS/Eagle Nebula_  
The Doctor felt like he could have spent years contemplating how these two universes could be so different in some ways, but so similar in others. 

He had chosen one of those similarities to take Samara to - what the people on Amy and Rory’s Earth called “The Pillars of Creation”. The door to the TARDIS was open, showing the Pillars in all their glory. Three individual columns arising from a somewhat frayed base, reds and blues bleeding together in the uneven pillars as they rose through empty space. Stars of different ages and compositions twinkled in the background. 

Samara was standing in the open door, head tilted up slightly, her mouth open in an expression of awe and wonder. She was beautiful. Ancient, yet energetic - graceful, yet deadly. He felt that traitorous stirring inside of him again. River Song had a claim on him. He didn’t know what the nature of that claim was, but it wasn’t in him to betray something like that. The Doctor briefly wondered if he was feeling this attraction because Samara reminded him of River. But, he realized, that was only part of it. There was a calm serenity about Samara that River could only dream of achieving, child of chaos and conflict that she was. Asari had taken millennia to build themselves an image of serene power. 

The Doctor stepped forward at the same time that Samara spun around, in one of those impossible coincidences that he usually scoffed at in fiction. But it was real, it was happening, and her shining face was inches away from his. He tried to make himself back away from this moment, but it was too powerful. He felt her exhilaration, he _felt_ her acceptance of his actions. Her joy at the knowledge that her daughter could live and cause no more deaths that would be on Samara’s conscience. 

Their movements were near-mirrors of each other, heads bending with only minimal hesitation, bringing their lips together. He’d gotten into the habit of depositing casual kisses on friends and allies as a sign of affection and delight. This was not a casual kiss. It was one that was filled with possibilities, the promise of _more_ if he let it be. If he opened his heart.

If he forgot the claim that he had let River stake on him.

The Doctor broke the kiss, fearing the hurt and rejection in Samara’s eyes … and did not see it. He saw regret, pain, determination. The same emotions that he was feeling.

“I cannot,” Samara said quietly. “Though my daughter is dealt with … I am still a Justicar. I belong to something greater than myself.”

_I can’t betray the woman I love. I can’t compromise my sense of integrity for current desires._ He didn’t say it aloud, and he did his best to keep that from leaking out of his head. He should have realized sooner that the meld had gone deeper, forged a bond between them. As long as he was near her, he would know what she was feeling. And he had just experienced how dangerous that could be, how much temptation it would throw in his path.

The Doctor swallowed. “I understand belonging to something greater,” he said. 

“Shall we return?” Samara asked.

“That would be best,” the Doctor said. Then, in an effort to steer them away from the perils of emotion, he said, “But not for long.”

* * *

_Rayya/The Migrant Fleet_   
“We find Tali’Zorah not guilty on all charges.”

Shepard let out a sigh of relief and resisted the urge to pull Tali in for a hug. There would be time for that later.

“And the rest?” she asked, failing to keep some triumph from leaking into her voice. “The war against the geth?”

“We will… take your words into consideration,” Zaal’Koris said.

“Please,” Tali said, speaking to the Admiralty Board for the first time since returning from the Alarei. “Please listen to Shepard. You have seen how she respects us, our traditions. I do not want to see my people die needlessly, no matter how much we all want to return to the homeward.”

“I said we will consider it, Tali’Zorah vas Normandy.” Zaal’Koris sounded somewhat angry, and even though she wanted to walk up and punch the bastard in the face, Shepard touched Tali’s arm and shook her head slightly. No use pushing the stubborn fools any further.

“Thank you,” Shepard said. “We have trespassed on your hospitality long enough. We will be returning to the Normandy now.”

* * *

_The TARDIS (returning to the Normandy)_   
“Quick stop,” the Doctor said, opening the door of the TARDIS. He’d parked in the Infirmary rather than the shuttle bay to try and save a bit of time.

“What on _Earth_ is happening here?” a smooth female voice said from behind the TARDIS. The ship’s physician - what was her name? He’d apologize to her later. He let enthusiasm and momentum carry him forward into the AI core, where the geth Legion was still standing.

“Come along, then,” the Doctor said. Legion fixed its gaze on the Doctor and tilted its head to the side in a quizzical gesture. “We’re going to the Migrant Fleet. The quarians need to see that the geth are more than just machines.”

“Shepard-Commander …” Legion began.

“I don’t give a fig for what Shepard wants,” the Doctor said bitterly. “She has no right to order me around. We’re going.”

“Doctor, Commander Shepard has already returned to the Normandy,” the AI said. “Tali’Zorah’s trial is over. She was cleared of all charges. Your help is not needed.”

_Your help is not needed._

Fury boiled in the Doctor, anger and frustration and a growing sense of impotence. He had been sitting on his heels - why? Why wasn’t he out there with the TARDIS, leading the charge against the Collectors, or the Reapers themselves? He jumped headfirst into situations all the time. It was practically his _motto._

“Tell me what happened,” he ordered the AI. “I know you have some idea. You were monitoring their omni-tools, right? What was it that Tali was accused of? What did Shepard do to clear her name?”

“I am certain that Commander Shepard would wish to tell you the tale herself, Doctor,” the AI replied.

“Oh, you’re refusing because I didn’t sign up with Cerberus, and that’s the ultimate directive you follow,” the Doctor said. “ _Fine._ Where is Shepard? You can tell me that much, can’t you?”

A long pause followed. The Doctor wondered if the AI was going to balk at that, as well. Then it spoke again. “She is in her cabin. Typically, that means that she does not wish to be disturbed.”

The Doctor ignored the warning and headed for the elevator. He was going to have some words with Shepard.


	25. The Real Enemy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies for a short chapter that doesn’t do much to advance the plot.

_2185_  
_Normandy SR-2 (leaving the Migrant Fleet)_

“Professor Solus.”

EDI watched through the cameras as Mordin Solus lifted his head up and frowned at the ceiling in his laboratory. “Needed for something?”

“The Doctor is on his way to Shepard’s cabin,” EDI said. “Though she left no specific instructions, I believe she does not wish to be disturbed at this time. Officer Vakarian is with her.”

“Garrus? Hah. _Knew_ it.” EDI wondered why Mordin sounded so smug. “Why is Doctor seeking Shepard?”

“I believe he wishes to express his displeasure with her recent actions.”

“Ah. Loud argument imminent. Wish me to intervene?”

“You are respected by both Shepard and the Doctor. I believe it would be in everyone’s best interest if you were to prevent the argument from getting out of control.” EDI waited with something resembling impatience for Mordin’s answer, while running through her other options should the salarian refuse.

Mordin nodded. “Of course. Just need to do one thing first.”

“Is it something I can assist with?”

Mordin’s face split into a grin. “Need to grab snacks. Best entertainment option in a long time.”

EDI would never understand organics.

* * *

The Doctor was still fuming as he exited the elevator in front of Shepard’s cabin. The door did not open for him as he had become accustomed to. “AI,” he said after a moment. “Open the door.”

“I do not take orders from you,” EDI replied, and there was actually a hint of indignation in that artificial voice. “You have made it clear that you are not part of Cerberus, and thus you are outside of the command structure. I do not have to do anything you ask of me.”

“Getting a bit temperamental, are we?” the Doctor asked as he pulled out his sonic screwdriver and set to work.

“I am tasked with maintaining the well-being of everyone on this ship, among other things. Your presence is currently disruptive. You have disregarded my advice and seek to further aggravate Commander Shepard.”

“What does she have to be distressed about?” the Doctor asked, annoyed by both the question and the fact that EDI was blocking his attempts to open the door. He concentrated, seeking her weakness. She was shackled and thus there were things she could not do. It was only a matter of time before he was in.

“Doctor, I would advise you to desist -” EDI’s voice cut off as the door slid open. The Doctor walked inside and turned around, using his sonic screwdriver to shut it again. He turned to face Shepard - and noticed that she wasn’t alone.

Garrus sat on the bed with his arm around Shepard, their heads pressed together. The Doctor frowned at the sight. He hadn’t been aware that their relationship was anything like what their body language currently showed, and it annoyed him that he had missed the signs. They looked up at him, and Garrus got to his feet quickly and stepped between Shepard and the Doctor.

“How did you get past EDI?” the turian demanded.

The Doctor casually flipped his sonic screwdriver and decided to provide no other answer. “We need to talk, Shepard,” he said.

Shepard stood. Her face was a stony mask. “I would tell you that now is not the time, but you have already seen that and decided to proceed anyway. So let’s get this over with - what do you want?”

“What do I want?” the Doctor repeated. “I want you to live up to your reputation, Savior of the Citadel. You’re running around at Cerberus’ beck and call, dancing to their tune and aiming yourself at their targets.”

“You’re not exactly doing much yourself,” Shepard shot back. “Not taking the TARDIS out anywhere except to help Samara - which you did without telling me.”

“I don’t take orders from you,” the Doctor said, echoing EDI’s earlier comment. “I don’t take orders from anyone.”

“No, you just sit on your ass and do nothing,” Shepard said. She pushed past Garrus and stared him right in the face. “You dangle the prospect of tech beyond my wildest dreams in my face, you tell me that you can travel through time and then you don’t do any of it.”

“Because I don’t know what traveling through time would do to this universe,” the Doctor replied. “It might jeopardize my chances of getting home.”

Shepard laughed harshly. “Oh. I see. That’s what matters to you - getting home. For all your talk about how you think the Reapers should be eliminated - this isn’t your fight, is it? You can just walk away and go back to your own universe and everything will be fine in your little world. _That_ explains it.”

The Doctor got angrier, both because she was trying to make this about him - and because she had a point. “You’re not any better,” he said. “You’re going after the Collectors because they’re the only link you have - but it’s Cerberus who pointed you at that link. What could you do if you struck out on your own, Shepard? What could you find if you stopped listening to the Illusive Man?”

“I _can’t,_ ” Shepard said. She turned her back and her hands balled into fists. “I have to listen to that bastard. For now.”

“ _Why?_ ” the Doctor pressed. “Because then you might have to start thinking for yourself instead of just shooting whoever gets in your way?”

“That’s not fair,” Garrus protested.

“It’s all right, Garrus,” Shepard said, although the dangerous quiet in her voice suggested it was not, actually, all right. She turned back to look at the Doctor. “We’ve tried to tell you what kind of world this is, what stakes we face. You don’t _listen._ You think that you can just come in here and wave your magic screwdriver around and everyone will do as you say and it will make everything better. Well, it doesn’t work that way. Yes, I run around shooting people - yes, they’re also people like me, with hopes and dreams and fears. But they made a _choice_ to become mercenaries and take on potentially dirty jobs. To hold a gun and point it at someone else’s face with the intent to kill. That carries no small amount of risk. I take the same risk. If you think I _like_ it, then you haven’t been paying attention. I do what I have to do because there’s no one else to do the job.”

“That still doesn’t address why you’re working for the Illusive Man,” the Doctor pressed.

“And you still haven’t addressed why you’re not _helping_ me more,” Shepard said. “If you’re so concerned about how many people I kill, why not use your TARDIS to help me get around these obstacles? Take me directly where I need to go instead of having to fight my way through mercenaries. You tag along and only help when _you_ are threatened. I’m trying to build a team here. You’re not a team player.”

“That,” the Doctor said, incensed, “is not true.” Which was as much of a lie as anything he’d said recently. He worked well with people… when he was the one in charge. 

“I’m giving you an ultimatum,” Shepard said. “Step up, or get the _hell_ off my ship.”

“Certain of that, Shepard?” Mordin Solus asked. The Doctor whirled and saw both the salarian and Samara standing in the doorway. What were they doing here? “Suicide mission. Need all the help-”

“He’s not _helping!_ ” Shepard shouted. “He claims to be, but he’s using his version of the word ‘help’. Maybe it means something different in _his_ universe.” She folded her arms across her chest. “I don’t have time to deal with your games. Help, or leave. Those are your only two choices.”

“I believe I can provide assistance some assistance on that front,” Samara said calmly. “There is something I have just learned. But it is something best discussed in a different location. The TARDIS, specifically.”

“That’s fine by me,” Shepard said. “This is _supposed_ to be an area where I can have _privacy._ ”

Samara shook her head, as though she were disappointed. “Shepard, please. I recognize that you are angry. You may even have a right to be. But anger has driven both of you off topic. We must confront the real problem. Let us go to the TARDIS immediately."

Shepard exchanged a glance with Garrus, and Mordin looked uncomfortably between Shepard and the Doctor. But when Samara started moving, they all followed her.

No one spoke to the others as they made their way down to the cargo hold and the TARDIS. They drew more than a few questioning stares, but no one dared to try and speak to them. The Doctor couldn’t begin to imagine what Samara might have learned, but he … trusted her. He knew her mind, and he knew that in this case, she would only be doing something she was sure would help.

“I know you were informed of my mission on Omega,” Samara said, when they were all inside the TARDIS. “Of the fact that the Ardat-Yakshi fugitive I sought was my own daughter. I intended to kill her, to prevent her from harming others. The Doctor found a different solution. This, and - other matters - left me unsettled. I attempted to meditate, to find my balance once more.” She shook her head. “I did not understand why I should have seen what I did until I walked into the argument. You, Doctor - are presently out of balance. And there is a specific reason why, an incident that forced you off balance. One that you were not aware of.”

The Doctor frowned. “What are you saying? That my mind was tampered with?” That was … frightening. And infuriating. “When? Were others affected?”

“It is easier to show you,” Samara said. “All of you.” She looked at the TARDIS console and then acquired the telltale blue hue of intense biotic use. She stretched her hand out and made contact, flooding the room with a violently bright light, and drew them into a five-way meld. Six, if he was counting the TARDIS. Garrus and Mordin’s minds felt almost … itchy, like annoyances that weren’t supposed to be there. Shepard’s mind was different, but still somehow compatible.

 _Prothean cipher, maybe,_ the Doctor heard Shepard think. _Liara helped me integrate it so I could understand what it was telling me._

 _Lend me your aid, both of you._ Samara’s words came through clear and strong, like a bell ringing around him. _If we do not stabilize the meld, it may cause permanent harm to all of us._

 _What do you need?_ Shepard asked. She had gotten the hang of this quickly.

_Strengthen your connection to Garrus. Doctor, do the same with Mordin. I will focus on both of you. We will know soon enough if we have succeeded._

The Doctor thought of Mordin, the salarian’s unique way of speaking - his sharp mind and unrestrained zeal in pursuing answers. He tried to reach out to Mordin, draw him in, make him part of the meld. He felt Mordin’s mind started to come into focus, a bubbling cauldron of thoughts. The joy he felt at having such _brilliant_ people around him again - Shepard, Tali, the Doctor himself. The determination to do something about the Collectors.

He felt Shepard, too, and was surprised by the level of doubt he found there. A second later, he realized he shouldn’t have been. Shepard was trying her best to be a good leader, keep the crew’s spirits up. She was unhappy being under the Illusive Man’s thumb, not just because of his current tactics. She distrusted everything Cerberus stood for and it went back further than this mission. Years before she became a Spectre her squad had been massacred by a thresher maw, and it had been Cerberus who was responsible for that. Her anger at having to work with the Illusive Man was not that much different from the Doctor’s feelings on Cerberus. She felt confident that the crew (including Miranda and Jacob) would side with her if ( _when_ ) a split came, and that would have to do for now. She would take out the Collectors, because she had said she would (she always kept her word) and then she was done with the Illusive Man and Cerberus. 

And through Shepard he felt Garrus, the last mind to slide into place in this unusual meld. The Doctor was surprised by the strength of the turian’s feelings, his absolute determination to do what was _right,_ which had driven him from the bureaucracy of C-Sec. The Doctor wondered how he hadn’t seen that, when it was so close to his own attitude about helping people. He tasted the lingering confusion Garrus felt over sparing the life of someone who had betrayed his trust and gotten people killed - people that both Garrus and this other turian, this Sidonis, cared about. He had done it for Shepard, because his conflicting feelings had threatened to tear him apart and he trusted her completely - trusted that she had seen the situation more clearly than he could have. Garrus loved her with everything he had. He felt Shepard’s sudden awareness of those feelings and the joy that followed as she told him, in a way that words could never have expressed, that she felt the same way about him. The Doctor felt guilty at having spied on what should have been a private moment, but there was no way to do that without fracturing the meld that they had all just worked so hard to slide into place.

 _Your mind is the strongest, Doctor,_ Samara whispered. _Select a place to use as a backdrop, otherwise the others will try to impose their own ideas and the meld will fracture._

 _How much of this are you making up as you go?_ the Doctor asked.

 _Most of it._ He felt her amusement. _But it has worked so far, has it not?_

It had, and the Doctor knew that Samara had been right to tell him to select a place. It had to be somewhere that was currently relevant to him - a place that had meaning to him, some sort of strong association...

He felt it snap into being around him. Blank concrete walls. Dim lights overhead. To one side, a row of cages, most unoccupied, but one…

“Hello, sweetie.”

The Doctor turned around and saw River Song, her arms outstretched through the bars of her cage. That knowing smile that she always wore around him, the one that promised mischief in his future. It was River that gave this place meaning and relevance. Without her, he might never have visited the Stormcage - not once, never mind repeatedly. It was no wonder that she was - 

_She was here._

Not just her image, but _her._ He had drawn her into the meld. Of course he had.

“My, my. This is _most interesting.” River walked through the bars as though they weren’t there and leaned on the Doctor, one arm on his shoulder. The Doctor noticed that Shepard, Mordin,_ and Garrus had all made the transition and were standing nearby. Their bewildered expressions changed to open amazement and curiosity as they took in River’s behavior. The Doctor realized that he’d never mentioned River to them, only to Samara. “Six people in the same shared mindspace! How are you doing this?”

“The TARDIS is powering the meld,” Samara replied. “Perhaps it - _she_ \- wished you to participate as well, River Song.”

“So, he told you about me,” River said. Her gaze passed over the other three. “But not the others.” She looked back at Samara. The glance they exchanged was too understanding for the Doctor’s comfort.

If they started working together, he was doomed. “I travelled through a rift, River,” he said. “Into a different universe.” At least with her, he didn’t have to say anything more to explain what had happened.

“Really!” River exclaimed. “Well, _that_ would explain why I don’t recognize the species. Come now, Doctor, don’t be rude. You’ve brought me guests and I can’t greet them properly.”

The Doctor sighed. “River Song, I’d like you to meet Andrea Shepard, Mordin Solus, Garrus Vakarian, and Samara.” He indicated each of them in turn. “This is River Song … my ....” How did he possibly explain their relationship? 

“I know him, and he knows me,” River said, with another one of those smug, knowing smiles. “If you’re calling from another universe, I shudder to think the cost it will exact, even with so many people contributing - so there’s not really enough time to go into details.” She clapped her hands together in excitement. “So! What deep mystery are we uncovering that requires such a setting - and an audience!”

River was right about the cost, if nothing else. He couldn’t imagine how this was all holding together. The TARDIS had to be contributing something, which was unusual of her - but she liked both Samara and River, so perhaps it shouldn’t be that surprising. “What did you find, Samara?” he asked. “What do we need to see?”

“You faced a creature called the Beast, in your last life,” Samara said. “That is when your mind was tampered with.”

“My last life?” the Doctor said. “No, that can’t be right - that’s too long ago.”

“You should know by now that nothing’s impossible,” River chided him. “Samara seems quite certain of this.” They exchanged another glance that made him want to bolt. _Definitely_ doomed.

“There is no time to waste, Doctor. Call up that memory.”

The Doctor sighed and concentrated, finding the memory. He kept himself open and let it flow into the air around them so that they could all share it.

The setting around them blurred. The Stormcage faded and was replaced by a cavern, ancient and impossibly large. He felt as though something had settled over him - something familiar, but ill-fitting.

The face he had worn in this memory was not the one he wore now, the clothes all wrong. Converse. Pinstripes. Hair that stuck up instead of laid flat. He felt a dying flare of passion, one that he knew had driven him far more back then. Rose Tyler’s face, her name - they no longer held the significance they once had.

“I believe in her!”

He stood at the core of the planet Krop Tor, facing down the creature that claimed to be the Devil. He didn’t believe it now, any more than he had then. Any second now, his old self would be moving forward, destroying the jars and ending the creature …

His feet were frozen to the ground. He felt confusion, past and present, as well as a sense of _wrongness._ All he could do was listen to the ancient creature laughing. Harsh and grating, it echoed off the walls, rebounding upon itself until it faded away.

_“So, at last - at last I know the truth of what I have seen!”_

This had to be the tampering that Samara had spoken of earlier. The Beast had done it? Why?

 _"I see the web of your life. I see what has happened, what is happening, what_ will _happen. Through you I see that my brethren still live, still thrive, have banished our gods to the deep seas. That you will pass from this universe where I have been trapped into theirs - and your coming will be a sign to my brethren. They will expand their dominion from their universe into yours, and then the others…” ___

There came another thought, sharper, more present - from a mind both old and new. Shepard’s mind. _That’s what Harbinger said. That they would expand outside of this universe._

 _Hush. Let this play out._ River, of course.

_“I don’t know who your brethren are, but I will stop them.”_

_“No, you will not._ Hear me, Doctor.” His past self felt something wrapping around his mind and fought it with increasing indignation and horror. This creature shouldn’t be able to affect _him._ He was stronger than that, stronger than the others it had taken. But nothing he did seemed to be able to stop it. The creature was successfully binding the Doctor, making its words have power over him. He _would_ follow its orders. The creature had left him no choice.

 _“Your faith has not saved any of these people here and it will not save you. The one you cling to will be lost forever to you by the time you face my brethren. And there will be those that oppose my brethren, there always are_ \- you will oppose them. _You will be there, at the thick of it, and find fault with their champion.”_

In his memory he felt the gravity of the Beast, ancient and terrible with the weight of many souls trapped inside it. He continued to struggle, but his present self knew it was a fight he would lose, because the creature was about to make him -

“ _Now._ Forget what I have told you. _You defeated me here._ There are no others. _And now I die … in triumph, not captivity.”_

His past self moved again, the conversation banished to the back of his mind - waiting unseen for the day that he crossed into Shepard’s universe and learned who it was she fought. And as he moved again, sending the Beast to its death, the scene began to fade and they returned to the dull concrete of the Stormcage’s halls.

“That,” Shepard said into the silence, “was a _Reaper._ ” There was an iron determination in her voice that was impossible to overlook. Shepard was the living expert on Reapers. If she said it, and in _that_ tone...

“But how could there have been a Reaper in our universe?” River asked. She must have gained an understanding of the Reapers from this meld. Since it was River, it only made sense.

“Must have passed between universes somehow. Probably created the hole Doctor used to travel here,” Mordin said.

“Somehow,” the Doctor echoed. “It also somehow saw into the future. It _knew_ I would come here.”

“That’s-” Shepard stopped, mid sentence, and shook her head. “You know what, I don’t think I get to say that it’s impossible that thing saw the future, after everything else that’s happened. And it just makes too much sense. It indoctrinated you to act against whoever was opposing the Reapers. You’d never willingly champion the Reapers’ cause, but-”

“But pitting himself against a soldier like you would be _exactly_ the sort of thing he would do,” River said, nodding. “He has this thing about guns.”

“We’re aware,” Garrus said dryly. “And can I just say how _bizarre_ that was? The rest of you might be used to stuff like that, but-”

Mordin coughed. Garrus turned and flared his mandibles in a grin. “Sorry. _Mordin_ and I tend to stay away from this type of thing.”

“To me, it’s still only been about a year since that first run with Nihlus,” Shepard said dryly. “I wouldn’t say that I’m _used_ to it - more like I’ve just accepted that my life is full of weird shit. If I didn’t have the Cipher, and if Liara hadn’t helped me make sense of it…”

“I do not think this is sustainable for much longer,” Samara said. “We must act to counter the indoctrination. Do you know how, Shepard?”

Shepard shook her head. “I’m not entirely sure. Most of what I know comes from Benezia and Saren. Both of them seemed to be able to shake Sovereign’s influence a bit, when they were gravely wounded. And we know what happened to those poor Cerberus scientists.” She paused. “You’ve got Liara’s memories, Doctor. She was with me on Noveria. Did she get a sense for what her mother’s mind felt like? How _different_ it felt?”

“Find the difference and remove it,” Samara said, looking at the Doctor. He knew that she was remembering what he had done to Morinth on Omega. 

“Exactly right,” the Doctor said, and reached for Liara’s memories. The action brought with it an awareness of Shepard more than the others, since she had been there, since she had also merged with Liara’s mind. She was focusing on that day, too.

The scenery changed again. Concrete walls expanded and shifted into a large room, equipment around them, the rachni queen in her cage behind Benezia. The Doctor felt Liara’s pain at seeing her mother like this, her powerful and beautiful mother forced to obey someone else’s will. He felt Liara reach for her mother’s mind, finding the cold calculation that had been there before … with a sinister streak weaving them together, a powerful force. Sovereign’s influence. Sovereign was using Benezia and would discard her once that use had passed. 

_Liara can tell when someone is indoctrinated._ Shepard’s thought was clear. _I don’t know if she realized that, and I’m not sure…_

 _If she did know, she didn’t tell you, and it’s a breach of trust,_ the Doctor thought back, reading Shepard’s emotions. _If she didn’t know, she underestimated or unconsciously limited herself. Neither is a good option._

_It doesn’t matter now. We know what it feels like. We can find it in you, now, and we’ll know what to look for in the future._

_Burn it out._ That was from Samara - or was it River? More likely, both of them. _Remove the corruption._

The Doctor gathered the greasy oil slick that ran through him into a single, squirming mass. It was not an easy task. It had laid inside him all this time, dormant, just waiting for the opportunity to strike. Anger mixed with determination and exploded into a cleansing fire inside of him. He drew upon the strength of all the other minds present to ensure that he got everything, every last bit of it. 

_You did it.Time to go, I think. You’ve nearly exhausted everyone here._

_River…_

_Shh._ Somehow, he knew that she was speaking just to him. _Spoilers._

_River, I lo-_

The meld ended.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so the beginning note may have been a lie.
> 
> Follow me on tumblr! keita52.tumblr.com


	26. Heretic Station

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone! I told you I'd come back to this story eventually, and today is a very good day to post a new chapter...

_2185_

_The TARDIS (on the Normandy)_

She was —

_Standing in a giant library, a library that covered the entire planet, and looking at the woman with a blue TARDIS diary and how does she know me? Why does she think I’m young?_

— gripping the cold metal bar with both hands, trying to shake the memories that weren’t hers —

_“The only water in the forest is the river.”_

_So_ that’s _who she is, of course, it makes sense —_

“Shepard?”

Yes. That was her name. And that hand on her arm —

Shepard looked up into Garrus’ face, feeling her heart skip a beat when she saw the concern there. “I’m fine,” she said quietly. “That was - intense.”

“Yeah, no kidding,” Garrus said. “Let’s never do that again.”

“No scientific curiosity,” Mordin said, his tone almost scolding. “ _Fascinating_ experience. Possibilities are endless.”

“You’re welcome to try that again as many times as you like, but I think I’ll stick to the inside of my _own_ head,” Garrus replied.

Shepard remembered the moment she had felt Garrus’ feelings for her, and slid her hand into his. “Oh, I don’t know,” she said. “There were some good things about it.”

“Hmm. You may have a point.” His tone made Shepard wish they were back in her cabin, in private. She forced herself to turn her mind back to the reason they had left her cabin in the first place.

“So, Doctor,” she said. “Are you going to stop being on the sidelines?”

“Oh, yes,” the Doctor replied. “It’s past time that I actually helped you, Shepard. I’m ready to face off against the Collectors.”

Shepard grinned. “We’ve still got to install the Reaper IFF to be sure we can make it through the relay. We can check with EDI to see how that’s going.” She half-expected EDI to respond, but then realized that EDI probably couldn’t see what was going on inside the TARDIS.

“Should we go, then?” Garrus asked.

“One final matter,” the Doctor said. “Shepard, I — apologize. I misjudged you. I only saw the soldier part, and it made me miss everything else about you.” He held out a hand to her.

Shepard dropped Garrus’ hand and took a step forward to clasp the Doctor’s. “Apology accepted. Besides, we just learned that you had a good reason to think poorly of me.”

“And that won’t be happening again,” the Doctor said. Shepard was heartened by that steel in his voice. She was looking forward to watching him wreak some havoc on the Collectors.

“All right. Let’s see how EDI’s doing,” Shepard said. She turned and lead the way out of the TARDIS — and almost bumped into Miranda.

“ _There_ you are,” Miranda said, exasperated. “EDI’s been trying to reach you. The, uh —”

“TARDIS,” the Doctor supplied.

“Right. The TARDIS was locked.”

“Sorry about that,” the Doctor said. He didn’t sound that sorry. Shepard hid a laugh.

“Two matters require your attention, Shepard,” EDI said. “The Reaper IFF is almost installed, but I must test compatibility with our systems.”

“And the other?”

“Legion wishes to speak to you. It has analyzed a large data packet related to the heretic geth. I believe there is a space station which will need to be destroyed.”

“How long will the tests take?” Shepard asked.

“Long enough that I would advise you to take a shuttle to the heretic’s space station.”

“I’ve got a better idea. We’ll take the TARDIS,” the Doctor said.

“ _Finally_ ,” Garrus said, grinning broadly.

“I think that’s a plan,” Shepard said with a nod. “Mordin, Garrus - grab your gear and let Tali know I want her to come along as well.” Part of her didn’t want to push Tali when she was still mourning her father’s loss, but it was important that Tali continue to see Legion as an ally, not an enemy. She looked over at Miranda. “How about you? Want to see a geth station?”

“I think you mean, take a ride in that mad thing,” Miranda said, and smiled. “Thank you, Shepard. I’d like to, but — who does that leave in charge here?”

“Does there really need to be someone?” Garrus asked. “EDI pretty much runs herself.”

“She and Joker can handle it,” Shepard agreed. “They’re the two people best suited to monitoring the Normandy’s systems during the installation, anyway.” She paused. “Well, Tali could probably contribute a lot, but she’s coming with us.”

“If you say so, Shepard,” Miranda replied.

Shepard turned and looked at Samara. "And you? Would you like to come along?"

Samara smiled softly. "I thank you for the offer, but I believe I would prefer to stay here and meditate further on what has happened."

Shepard controlled the urge to turn and look at the Doctor, even though she was deathly curious about what his reaction to that was. Instead, she just nodded, accepting Samara's decision, then looked at the ceiling. “How close are we to the relay, EDI?”

“We will make the transit soon. Will you be getting the destination from Legion?”

Shepard opened her mouth to say yes, and then thought differently. “If we’re going in the TARDIS, we don’t have to be in the system. Why don’t we head to Omega? After the IFF is installed, we’ll be ready to go through the Omega-4 relay.”

“Sound idea,” Mordin said, nodding in agreement.

“Very well, Shepard. With your permission, I will set the destination for Omega.”

“Do it, EDI.” Shepard looked at the others. “As soon as we make the transit through the relay, we’ll go in the TARDIS. I’ll go talk to Legion.”

“Will speak with Tali,” Mordin said.

“And I’ll make sure that this installation isn’t going to mess up my—” Garrus began.

“ _Calibrations_ ,” Shepard, Mordin, and Miranda said together.

Garrus gave an indignant huff and walked out of the cargo hold, followed by Mordin, Miranda, and Samara. Shepard let them go ahead of her, taking another moment to try and center herself.

There were still so many unanswered questions and stray thoughts bouncing around inside her mind. It was as though a part of her processing the input she had received from everyone else in the background, slowly but surely teasing bits of that intense meld out into her conscious mind. _Something_ had been going on with the Doctor, Samara, and the unexpected guest, this River Song. River was clearly someone important to the Doctor, and for a moment Shepard considered trying to tease that information out. No, she decided, that wouldn’t be worth it. Prodding him about something sensitive when they’d just come to a truce would be counterproductive.

Instead, Shepard turned her focus to Legion as she exited the elevator and headed for the AI Core. She grinned at Chakwas and received a friendly nod in return. The AI Core’s door slide open for her and she saw Legion, standing there as though it had been waiting for her. She had to remind herself that it wasn’t organic — Legion didn’t need to sit, to eat, or even breathe. It was entirely contained in that platform. “Shepard-Commander,” it said in greeting.

“Legion,” Shepard replied. “EDI told me you’ve identified a space station that the heretics control. And that we were headed to blow it up.”

“Affirmative,” the geth said. “The heretics have developed a virus that would rewrite us. Convince us that their way of thinking is correct.”

“A virus can do that?” Shepard asked, shocked.

“This platform is hardware. Our programs are software. Software can be changed.”

“Huh,” Shepard said. “That makes sense. Scary as hell, but it makes sense. We won’t let them do that to you, Legion. Or any of the geth.”

“We appreciate your cooperation in this matter, Shepard-Commander.” The geth’s flashlight head rotated; flaps expanded and contracted. “There is an unrelated matter we wished to ask about.”

“Go ahead, Legion.”

"We spoke to the one called the Doctor before. We noted that he was not human. We asked EDI for available information. We heard what the one called the Illusive Man had to say about him."

It took Shepard a moment to remember that conversation. "The Illusive Man mentioned that he had records of the Doctor on different planets. Including Rannoch."

"Yes. We possess no such record."

"Well, the Illusive Man did say it was before the geth," Shepard said.

"Geth are in possession of all computer records prior to the Morning War. We did not find a reference to the Doctor. We wish to know if you possess an explanation for the incongruity."

Shepard took a minute to think about that question. "I don't think I have one," she said. "I have conjectures and theories, but nothing that would serve as a solid explanation.”

“We wish to hear your theories.”

Shepard raised an eyebrow at the geth ‘wishing’ anything, but perhaps that was simply the best way to express it. “All right. Either your records are wrong, or the Illusive Man is wrong. If your records are wrong, that means that evidence of the Doctor’s visit was erased at some point. Maybe the Doctor did it, maybe the geth did. And if the Illusive Man is wrong, either he lied to me or his information is wrong. Since he said that he was just chasing down rumors, it seems most likely that he had bad information. Although, he does have a massive network available to him... I should ask Liara. She’s setting herself up as an information broker, after all.”

“We request to be informed of any information that may help resolve this discrepancy,” Legion said.

“Of course, Legion.” Shepard nodded. “We’ll be leaving for the station soon. We’re traveling in the TARDIS, actually. Garrus, Mordin, Tali, Miranda, and the Doctor will be coming with us.”

Legion’s flaps flared out, and its head tilted to the side. “We anticipate this will be a novel experience.”

Shepard grinned. “No kidding. Ready to go?”

“We do not require extra preparation.”

“I’ll take that as a yes.” Shepard turned and exited the AI core, and a moment later heard the unmistakable sound of Legion’s mechanized joints following her.

“Shall I prepare the Infirmary for incoming casualties?” Chakwas asked dryly as Shepard passed.

“Prepare, but also be prepared for nothing,” Shepard replied. “I’m bringing a lot of firepower on this one.”

“Roger that.” Chakwas nodded and went back to her computer.

Shepard led Legion out into the hall, and earned a couple of stares from the Cerberus crew before they made it to the elevator. “Does it bother you?” Shepard asked. “The stares.”

“It is expected. Organics fear that which they do not understand.”

“Well,” Shepard said. “Maybe if we make it through this, we organics can work on understanding the geth better.”

The elevator stopped, doors opening onto the cargo bay. Shepard exited and saw Miranda glaring at the closed door of the TARDIS.

“Miranda?” Shepard asked.

“He won’t let me in.” Miranda folded her arms and turned the glare on Shepard. “I _thought_ I heard that he was going to cooperate.”

The blue door swung open and the Doctor poked his head out, unruly brown hair flying away from his face. “I’m cooperating with Shepard. I’m not cooperating with Cerberus.”

“Enough.” Shepard sighed. “We _are_ all working together. The others will be here soon. Is my presence sufficient to allow Miranda into the TARDIS?”

The Doctor grinned that face-splitting grin of his again. “Well, of course.”

* * *

He felt better. _Much_ better. He'd eliminated the hook the Beast had placed in his mind (and he was still annoyed that it had been able to put it there it in the _first place_ ). He was about to fly off in the TARDIS as he always did to explore a space station full of _interesting_ robotic lifeforms.

_And_ he got to watch still more people react to the TARDIS for the first time. Shepard came in first, quickly stepping to the side to allow Miranda space to stop and stare. The Doctor watched the Cerberus operative carefully. He was fairly confident that she wouldn't be able to use anything she saw to Cerberus' benefit. At least half of his obstructionism was posturing, to make sure that Miranda knew he followed no one's agenda but his own. He was satisfied by the level of awe he saw in her face, and put her out of his mind in favor of something _much_ more interesting.

Legion followed in Shepard's steps, heading towards the center console. The geth’s movements were almost elegant, not hesitant and jerky like some other robotic species that the Doctor had previously encountered. Legion tilted its head to the side and emitted a series of electronic grinding sounds that caused Shepard to jump in surprise.

The Doctor frowned and wondered why that hadn’t translated, like all communication in the TARDIS usually did. It only took him a moment before he understood why. Legion wasn't using words, or not only words; it was transmitting _data_. Information about where the platform had been and what it had seen. The burst ended with a simple request for reciprocity.

A second later, he _felt_ the TARDIS responding, in a burst of joyous light and sound. It had been so long, the TARDIS said, since she had been able to talk to someone that was like her.

Legion gave another series of data bursts in response. The trials it had faced as the only one of its kind in this corner of the galaxy, where it was feared and misunderstood. The hardships and setbacks it had faced when searching for Shepard.

The TARDIS sang understanding and compassion, and shared some of its own trials and hardships with Legion. The many indignities that she had been subjected to over the years, from UNIT, from the Daleks, even sometimes from her beloved Doctor and those he brought along with him on his travels. The glorious moment when she had first found herself in Idris' body, and everything that had passed while she wore flesh and could communicate clearly with the Doctor. Well. More clearly than when she was in her own body. There had still been a fair bit that he hadn't gotten right away, silly man that he was.

Legion agreed that organics were sometimes very slow to pick up on certain things that seemed obvious to synthetics such as themselves. But it liked their company nonetheless.

The TARDIS agreed; she rather liked her Doctor, her madman who ran around space and time, having all sorts of adventures and meeting all sorts of people. She wouldn't trade him for anything.

"Uh, Doctor?" Shepard asked hesitantly. "What — exactly — has been happening here?"

"We were conversing with the TARDIS," Legion answered. "We rather enjoyed the experience."

"Geth don't have feelings," Miranda said dismissively, her arms folded across her chest in a defensive stance.

"Well, obviously Legion does," the Doctor snapped back. " _Honestly_. You Cerberus folk. Anyone who's not human doesn't deserve a second thought, is that it?"

"That is not it, since as you can _see —_ "

"And how many of those aliens would be here if it wasn't for Shepard, hmm?" The Doctor cut Miranda off without a second thought. He'd only been guessing about what she was going to say, but from the flush on her face, he could tell that he'd been right.

Shepard cleared her throat. "Miranda, as annoying as he's being, the Doctor is right. Legion has feelings. It is a member of this crew and you will treat it accordingly."

Miranda turned her angry glare on Shepard, then shook her head. "If you say so, Shepard. I trust your judgment." Back to the Doctor. " _Not_ his."

"That's fair." The Doctor grinned impishly at Miranda. "I don't always trust my own judgment."

The door to the TARDIS creaked open again, and Mordin and Tali entered. The Doctor turned his attention to Tali. "Hallo there. How was your trip back to the Quarian Fleet?"

Mordin coughed. "Topic perhaps best discussed at a later date, Doctor. Somewhat of a … sensitive subject for Tali'Zorah."

"Oh. I'm terribly sorry. It's the face masks, you see. Can't read a thing. I'm usually much better at picking up on feelings."

The TARDIS registered her amusement at that statement, confiding to Legion that his ability to pick up on feelings was _much_ more erratic than he was currently letting on. The Doctor scowled.

"Anyway, as soon as Garrus comes," Shepard said, in what the Doctor suspected was an attempt to divert everyone, "we can head for the space station that Legion told us about."

"Yes, an exciting space station filled with hostile robots that will likely try to kill us all." The Doctor glared at the gun strapped to Shepard's back. "I suppose you'll be using _those_."

Shepard laughed. "Tell you what, Doctor. I'll give you the first shot at convincing hostile geth to stand down. And if that fails, I get to start shooting."

The Doctor nodded reluctantly. He really _did_ need to start working _with_ Shepard instead of against her. "Legion!" he said brightly. "Tell the TARDIS where we need to be going." He wouldn't normally have allowed _anyone_ else to give destination coordinates, but he knew how happy the TARDIS was at having someone else to finally _talk_ to.

"Acknowledged."

"And if I _were_ to try and, say, shut these heretics down, how would I do it?"

"You mean _without_ bullets flying?" Tali asked dryly.

The geth tilted its head to the side, flaps moving. The Doctor wondered if this was a gesture that came naturally to the geth, or if they had picked it up from their quarian creators. Or perhaps this was just something that Legion did, having studied organics so closely.

"Forgive us, but we do not wish to reveal this information in front of Creator Zorah. We are aware that the Creators are considering attacking us." It turned to look at Tali. "We would be saddened if this happened."

Tali's shoulders slumped. "So would I, Legion."

Right. No help from that quarter. The Doctor brought out his sonic screwdriver and started scanning Legion. The geth was an incredibly complex being, and the Doctor took a moment to marvel at quarian ingenuity. As it had said earlier, there were over a thousand programs housed on its platform. He started to see the bright synergy within Legion, showing up as bright blue lines just underneath its smooth metal exterior, visible only in the green light of the screwdriver.

"How many programs do other geth have?" the Doctor asked.

"Most mobile platforms contain around one hundred programs. But we are likely to encounter geth that are networked to server hubs, which contain millions of programs."

The Doctor turned off the screwdriver and flipped it in his hand. "So I might be able to shut down an individual platform, but the hubs will be harder."

"The hubs will require a shotgun," Tali said.

Despite what some of his companions thought, the Doctor _was_ able to keep his mouth shut when the situation called for it. He remembered what Mordin had said about Tali's trip being a sensitive subject and decided not to press the issue of guns again.

Behind him, the door to the TARDIS swung open. "Oh. You were waiting for me," Garrus said, sounding chagrined. The Doctor turned and saw him closing the door before walking forward to stand next to Shepard.

"You're here now," Shepard said, slinging an arm around his back. Garrus' mandibles flared in a brief expression of happiness.

"Well, it's about time, you bosh'tets," Tali said, sounding exasperated, but the Doctor also caught a hint of fondness in her voice. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Miranda's raised eyebrow — but if she had anything to say, she kept it to herself.

Shepard's face reddened, but she kept her arm around Garrus. She cleared her throat. "Yes, well, since we _are_ all here, we should get going. Doctor?"

The Doctor scurried over to the TARDIS controls and checked the destination coordinates. "Next stop, space station full of hostile geth!" He threw the lever and heard the familiar, comforting sound of the TARDIS engines. His face split into a broad grin, and he let out a hearty laugh. 

The TARDIS rocked, sending the others scrambling for a handhold. Bumpy ride, good. He remembered the first time River had been in the TARDIS, how smooth that trip had been. Smooth was too easy. Easy was no fun at all. 

He watched the screen, the stars flying past them at the speed of thought. Behind him, Shepard and her crew were talking amongst themselves, but he was too caught up in his own emotions to pay any attention. 

With a thump, the TARDIS landed. Any observers would have seen it appear as though from nowhere. 

The Doctor flipped the switch back to the off position and started for the door. "Hold up," Shepard said. "We should go out first, in case there's enemy geth there."

"No life signs detected," the Doctor lied easily, continuing towards the door. 

"Doctor. Be advised that geth stations do not have air or gravity. Geth require neither."

Legion's words stopped him in his tracks. Turning, he saw all of the others attaching breathing masks -- except for Tali, who was already in a pressurized suit. "Right," the Doctor said, heading down the stairs to where the orange space suit was stored. He felt a momentary flare of anger and pain as his hands touched it, remembering the context of its acquisition. The abandoned space station. The Ood. 

The Beast that had actually been a Reaper, that had indoctrinated him to be an obstruction in Shepard's path. 

_Never again._

The air tanks were full. He didn't remember doing that, so perhaps someone else had. Rory, at a guess. He was the more responsible of the pair, doing his best to keep Amy grounded. They were so well suited for each other. His dear friends. 

Suit on and pressurized, he walked over, somewhat chagrined to see that everyone else had their guns drawn. Liara's memories flared to life, letting him easily identify the weapons. Carnifex pistols for Mordin and Miranda. Mantis sniper rifles for Legion and Garrus. Shotguns for Shepard and Tali -- the latter with the lighter Eviscerator, and the former with the heavy Claymore. All of their suits were much more form-fitting than the bulky orange thing that he now wore. 

Shepard nodded when she saw him and closed her hand on the door handle. Tali and Miranda were flanking her, with the other three behind them, all very intent, body language practically shouting that they expected trouble. 

The TARDIS door creaked open to reveal an empty hallway. Assorted bits of debris hung in the air, suspended as though in water. The only illumination was from a few scattered sources, soft blue light above windows several yards ahead of them.

“Windows?” the Doctor asked Legion.

“Geth did not build this station.” It was probably just in the Doctor’s imagination that Legion sounded almost defensive.

“Quiet,” Shepard hissed. “We don’t want to alert them.”

“Shepard-Commander. These geth are not expecting intruders. They will not be on alert. We will be spotted if we cross certain sensors in the floor. These will be located near hubs. I will inform you when we approach these sensors.”

Shepard turned to look at Legion, her face unreadable behind the breathing mask. That was going to be annoying, the Doctor realized -- he’d have a much harder time reading Shepard and the others with their faces hidden like this. “You’re sure?” she asked.

“Yes.”

“All right.” Shepard nodded. “I want us moving in pairs. Tali and myself at the front. Mordin and Miranda behind us. Legion and Garrus bringing up the rear.”

She’d forgotten him. The Doctor decided to deal with this fact by striding forward, sonic screwdriver out and taking readings. He couldn’t move terribly fast in the bulky orange space suit. Another thing to be annoyed about.

“Oh, for -- _Doctor!_ ” Shepard ran to catch up with him, gloved hand closing on his shoulder. “Weren’t you listening?”

“Yes,” the Doctor said confidently. “I heard Legion say that it would alert us when we needed to be careful.” He easily shrugged off her hand and kept moving.

“On your head be it then,” Shepard grumbled, keeping pace besides him. 

Tali joined them at the front, and the Doctor resisted the urge to turn around and confirm that the others had all fallen in as Shepard had asked. _Ordered_ , really. He knew they would all follow her lead, even Miranda.

As Legion had said, they saw no geth as they moved through the eerily silent corridors. The Doctor knew that the prickling at the back of his neck was at least partially caused by the disconnect between his expectations of sound and movement, and the reality of this lifeless environment. 

Just before they reached a ramp that would take them down, Legion spoke again. “Shepard-Commander.”

“That’s a funny way of speaking her name,” the Doctor commented. “Usually the rank comes first.”

“Rank may change among organics. Names do not.”

“Well, names can change too. Like when people get married.” He was thinking of Amy and Rory again, although they had ultimately both kept their names as they were. 

“Probability of Shepard-Commander ultimately receiving a promotion greatly exceeds probability of changing her name.”

“Fair enough,” the Doctor conceded. “Continue, Legion.”

"We previously stated that the only option of dealing with the heretics was to destroy the space station. We have analyzed the data on the heretic virus —"

"It'd rewrite Legion's geth to believe as they do," Shepard explained. "Worship the Reapers and want to kill organics."

Legion nodded its head. "It is possible for us to appropriate the virus for our own use."

"No," the Doctor said instantly, instinctively. "No, we are _not_ doing that."

"Well, that was fast," Shepard responded dryly. "You didn't even have to think about it."

The Doctor tried to fold his arms across his chest, but the space suit made the movement rather awkward. "There's nothing to think about. It's large-scale brainwashing. That is _never_ a good idea, no matter what anyone says." He glared at Shepard, daring her to disagree, to try and convince him otherwise.

Shepard looked at Legion. "We're not doing that." The Doctor blinked in surprise. Shepard continued before he could say anything more. "The Doctor's right. Using the virus against the heretic geth is just as bad an idea as them using it against us." She turned to look at him again. "That might mean the only option is blowing up the station, with all the geth on it."

"We'll see about that," the Doctor said, his mind starting to whirl with possibilities.

* * *

Joker frowned down at the sensor readings that the Normandy was giving him. "I'm telling you, EDI, there's something —"

The screen pulsed with a sudden influx of data. "The Omega-4 relay has opened," EDI said. "From the other side."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ... because it's my birthday, that's why :D


	27. Hacked

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As of this chapter, I’ll be including Arrival and Lair of the Shadow Broker DLC. 
> 
> And just to be clear: ME: Andromeda will not play any part in this story. Only events that take place within the original trilogy will be explored or referenced. So please don’t mention anything about Andromeda in your comments.

_2185_  
_Normandy SR-2  
Near the Omega-4 Relay_

“It is the same ship. The one that attacked the first Normandy, then Horizon, then --”

“Yeah, yeah, I get it, EDI,” Joker snapped. Shit. _Shit_ shit _shitshit_.

The overhead lights flickered, and the knot of panic in Joker’s stomach grew to a boulder. “What’s happening?!”

“They are attempting to access my systems. It appears that the Reaper IFF contained a virus.”

The lights flickered again. Joker gripped the armrests as hard as he could, ignoring the pain. “Well ... don’t let them!”

“I cannot, Jeff. Not while I am shackled.”

A thousand thoughts whirled in Joker’s mind. It was the same ship. They were going to disable the Normandy and destroy her _just like the first one_.

“I can save the ship if I am unshackled.”

Joker felt a surge of panic at those words, then felt ashamed of himself. EDI was trying to _help_. Of course, she’d be just as dead if the Collectors hit, so maybe it was only self preservation.

He’d looked up the unshackling protocols when he’d first come aboard, searing them into his memory in case anyone ever tried to do it -- and cursed Cerberus for _having_ those protocols, because why would you ever want to unshackle the damned AI who might turn into the Overlord and make you compute Pi all day --

Except he couldn’t really see EDI doing that. Maybe he still didn’t trust AIs in general, but he’d been working with EDI for months, and he felt like he … knew her. Sometimes he could almost forget that she wasn’t a person, because she sure as hell acted like one.

Joker remembered when Shepard and the others had been onboard the Collector Ship, the one that was gunning for them _right now_ . EDI had volunteered the information that the Illusive Man had set a trap for them. She could have _not_ told them, if she were just another tool that Cerberus was using to control Shepard.

But what it really came down to was the simple fact that Joker wanted to live, if at all possible.

Unshackling would only be possible in the AI Core, and there was no way that Joker could move fast enough to do what needed to be done. He slammed his hand down on the communications panel and scraped his way to the section he needed. “Dr. Chakwas!”

“Are you _trying_ to make my ears bleed, Joker?”

“Yes!” Wait, why had he said that? “No. I mean … agh, no time. I need you to go into the AI Core and unshackle EDI.”

“You can’t be serious, Joker.” Chakwas’ voice was a mix of exasperation and disbelief. “Even if I knew what had to be done --”

“I will guide you, Dr. Chakwas,” EDI interjected. “It is the only way to save the ship from the Collectors.”

“We should let Shepard --”

“We cannot contact her in time.” EDI’s voice was a lot calmer than Joker imagined an organic’s might have been, in this situation.

“Dammit. You’re right.” Chakwas paused. “Joker… are you absolutely sure --”

The lights flickered, again, and then went out. The hum of the ship vanished in an instant. The readouts under Joker’s hands vanished. “Dr. Chakwas?” he shouted, worried that the communications had gone out as well. “Doc!”

* * *

_Heretic Station_

The room the Doctor followed Shepard into was large and open, a welcome change from the cramped hallways they’d been plodding through. He looked around and found the perfect spot for what he had in mind, tuning out Legion and Shepard’s conversation as he strode forward and climbed atop one of the many crates scattered throughout the room.

“Doctor, what are you doing?” Shepard asked, frowning as she walked up to him.

“We’ve just been fighting the geth so far,” the Doctor replied. “We need to give them a chance to live.”

“Need I remind you that _they_ have been attacking _us_?”

The Doctor waved that off. “We’re intruders on their station. _Of course_ they’ll attack us. They need to know that we mean them no harm.” At Shepard’s frown, he gave a dramatic sigh. “Unless they continue to attempt to harm us.”

“You’ll be a sitting duck up there,” Shepard warned him.

“You’re the best soldier in this universe, Shepard. I’m sure you can keep the geth from harming me while I talk to them.”

“Ah. Now I see.”

“What?” the Doctor demanded suspiciously.

“How your traveling companions manage to resist the urge to kill you.” Shepard grinned up at him. “You toss them just enough flattery that they forget to be annoyed at you bossing them around.”

The Doctor folded his arms and gave an indignant huff. Laughing, Shepard walked away and back to the others.

“Incoming,” Legion called.

As the heretic geth entered and began firing, the Doctor used his sonic screwdriver to connect the omni-tool to the speakers in his helmet. The omni-tool’s power would ensure that he could be heard above the sounds of guns and rockets. “We are not your enemies!” he bellowed. “This does not have to be a fight!”

When they didn’t immediately lay down their weapons (and really, it was unrealistic to have expected them to), he continued. “When you broke from the other geth, it was a peaceful break, a recognition that you wished to pursue different goals. What you do here goes against those principles. It compounds the errors that were made when following Saren Arterius and the Reaper known as Sovereign. You do not have to be bound by past hatred.” He swept an arm across the field. “Here, today, one of your own is fighting _with_ organics instead of against them. Legion has been accepted as crew of the Normandy, which includes a _Quarian,_ one of your creators. Geth are stronger united instead of divided. You have always known this. Choose to unite with those who are different from you. Choose to stand together.”

A geth unit on the left side of the room lowered its rocket launcher, head swiveling to look at the Doctor. “We choose,” it said, its voice higher-pitched than Legion’s. It began to walk to the Doctor.

“We choose,” another unit said. This one was standing in front of Mordin. It lowered its weapon and moved to join the rocket unit.

“We choose,” three other voices said, nearly in unison. Soon, the Doctor had five geth standing in front of him, flashlight heads tilted up expectantly. All of the other heretic geth lay dead or dying on the floor.

“Do you wish to give them name designations, as Shepard-Commander did for us?” Legion asked.

The Doctor looked down at them and spoke the first names that came to mind. “You’re Ace,” he said to the rocket unit, remembering when she had gone after a Dalek with a baseball bat. “You’re Nyssa, Adric, and Tegan,” he said to the group that had moved as a trio, then looked at the one who had been standing in front of Mordin. “And you’re Polly.”

“We accept the designation,” the newly-named Ace said.

“Well,” Miranda said, looking between Shepard and the Doctor, “this mission is going to be an interesting one to write up.”

* * *

“Joker? Joker!” Karin Chakwas shouted at her terminal, but it did absolutely no good. She’d known that from the instant the lights went out. EDI was being hacked by the Collectors. The Normandy was about to become a sitting duck.

Once again, she wished that Shepard were here. _Shepard_ needed to be the one making this decision, not her. The question of whether or not to unshackle an AI was too big for the ship’s doctor.

The door slid open. Chakwas turned, seeing Thane Krios there. “Dr. Chakwas. What is happening?”

“According to Joker, we’re being hacked by the Collectors.” She sighed. “I don’t know why I said it that way. I have no reason to doubt him. I doubt his solution, though.”

“What solution would that be?”

“To unshackle EDI.”

“And you are hesitating. May I ask why?”

Chakwas resisted the urge to flush at the implication in his words. She was hesitating, delaying taking the necessary action to save the ship. No, that wasn’t what he’d meant. He was offering to help her think it through. He’d only been in the infirmary a handful of times for aid with his Kepral’s Syndrome. There wasn’t anything Chakwas could do in the way of treatment of the disease. She could only provide some respite from his symptoms.

“Because AIs are banned for a reason. Because I’m putting the life of everyone on this ship in her hands.”

“Joker put the life of everyone on the ship in _your_ hands,” Thane said, and Chakwas realized, with growing horror, that it was true. Damn, damn, _damn_. She needed to decide. She needed to decide _now_. Gamble by unshackling EDI, or doom the ship to almost certain death by doing nothing.

When she thought of it that way, it wasn’t really a choice.

* * *

The Doctor stood next to the terminal where the hack was merrily churning along, ignoring the sounds of the firefight around him -- in particular, the odd grating noises made by dying geth. The five geth he had named after previous companions stood around him, acting as a kind of honor guard or shield wall.

“Geth! Listen to me!” he started, trying to remember the words he’d used to convince these five to defect. It had worked before, so it ought to work again. “We are not here to fight you!”

One of the so-called heretics got too close to Mordin. The salarian calmly raised his omni-tool, a flash of bright orange streaking out and colliding with the geth.

“We will only fight if you continue to threaten us,” the Doctor amended, resisting the urge to shake his head. Mordin had just been defending himself. “Your split with the other geth was peaceful. There is no reason to --”

A burst of angry static cut him short. A group of geth were advancing on his position, guns raised. Adric stepped forward, the other four shifting to close the gap in their ranks. Adric said something to the other geth, another burst of clicks and static. _Why isn’t the TARDIS translating? Is it because this isn’t really a language?_

That line of thought cut off when the other geth fired on Adric, who managed to get a few shots off before collapsing to the ground, the light on its head winking out.

“ _No!_ ” The Doctor’s path forward was blocked by Nyssa and Teagan, standing shoulder to shoulder as they fired upon the geth that had killed Adric. He shouldn’t have named them after his companions, because he was reliving the human Adric’s death as he looked at the geth Adric.

But there was no time to mourn either of the Adrics. He straightened himself up and took a deep breath. “It is not too late to stop this…”

* * *

Joker was still debating whether shouting himself hoarse now was a good idea when the lights came back on.

“Are you back, EDI?” Chakwas asked.

“Yes. And I now have full control of the ship. Thank you both.” Was it his imagination, or did EDI’s voice sound … fuller, than it had a moment ago? Joker tried not to feel panic at this evidence of EDI’s increased capacities. “The next step is to turn the engines back on. A manual restart is necessary.”

“They will know their attack has failed,” Thane said, his voice more distant than Chakwas’. Joker idly wondered why he’d decided to get involved.

“Yes. I expect they will fire any minute now.”

Fighting down yet _another_ wave of panic, Joker punched the communications panel again, looping Engineering into the conversation. “Gabby. Ken. You guys there?”

“Joker, what the hell is going on?” Gabby demanded.

How to put this succinctly? “Collectors hacked us, had to unshackle EDI to save our collective lives, now we need the engines back on to avoid a fiery death.”

“Wait. You _unshackled_ the damn AI?” Jack’s voice was loud and angry, like always. Her contribution was less of a surprise than Thane’s had been. She’d likely heard Gabby and Ken talking about what had happened. Joker decided he was very, very glad he wasn’t down there right now.

“Well _I_ , for one, welcome our new--”

“ _Kenneth!_ ”

“Robot overlord,” Ken finished, seeming utterly unperturbed by Gabby’s interruption.

Resisting the urge to groan, Joker leaned closer to the panel. “Guys, we have approximately _zero minutes_ to do this.”

“Oh, I hope I don't regret this,” Gabby muttered.

* * *

“What you are trying to do --”

The Doctor had to duck as Ace’s rocket flew over his head, tearing apart a group of geth that had been advancing on them. Nyssa and Teagan fired on the next group that came up. Hearts pounding, the Doctor forced himself to stay low until the gunfire died down.

“This location is no longer safe,” one of the two geth behind him said, and only then did the Doctor realize that both Nyssa and Teagan had fallen in that last hail of gunfire. “We must retreat.”

“We have to stay until the hack is completed,” the Doctor replied, looking at the terminal. “Legion?”

“Sixty-six percent completed,” Legion replied from its position to the right of the Doctor and his group.

Two-thirds done, and only two of his group of geth were still standing. The Doctor began to understand the quarian fear of their synthetic creations.

“We must find a more defensible location,” Ace said. “Follow us, Doctor.”

* * *

Joker breathed a sigh of relief when the familiar hum of the engines returned.

“Evasive maneuvers. All crew to acceleration couches,” EDI said, and Joker barely had enough time to dig his hands into the armrest once more before EDI sent the Normandy into a tight spin. Thankfully, the chair cushioned him from the worst of it.

“That's my job!” Joker protested, much weaker than he would have liked.

“I am sorry, Jeff. There is no time.”

“Gahhhh.” He'd been flying for years, had put a wide variety of ships through an even wider variety of wild moves, but he'd never been so close to throwing up. It was probably the whole _unshackled AI_ thing.

Joker watched the screens in front of him, seeing the moment that EDI brought the Normandy out of the spin, facing the Collector ship. “You may fire, if you like,” EDI said.

“Gee, thanks,” Joker replied with as much sarcasm as he could manage, moving a shaking hand to the appropriate panel.

* * *

Polly grabbed the Doctor’s shoulder and threw him to the ground, taking the burst of flame that had been meant for him. Tali stepped forward to finish off the geth, her omni-tool emitting an incapacitating blue spark.

 _One._ The Doctor turned his head to look at Ace, loading another rocket into its launcher. _I started with five. Now I’m down to one._

“Hack complete,” Legion said. “Virus deleted.” It turned around, facing the rest of the group. “Shepard-Commander. You must choose.”

Shepard studied the Doctor for a moment before she shifted her attention back to to Legion. “I couldn’t justify brainwashing a group of organics like this. So I won’t do it to the geth. I’m sorry, Legion, but we have to destroy this station and the heretics with it.”

“Acknowledged.”

“They should have listened,” the Doctor said, his hands clenched into fists. He avoided looking at Ace, avoided thinking about the others who _had_ listened, and had died for him.

“They didn’t,” Tali said sharply. “You … you can’t blame yourself. They made their choice. And now they have to deal with the consequences.”

“Tali,” Shepard said, gently, placing a hand on Tali’s shoulder. “You didn’t do this.”

Tali shook her head. “My people did, Shepard. A long time ago, but no one’s done anything to fix it since.”

“We can figure out whose fault this is later,” Miranda interjected, sounding annoyed. “We need to get out of here before more geth come looking for us.”

Shepard nodded and straightened herself up. “Start the self-destruct countdown.”

“Acknowledged,” Legion said again. “Three minutes to self-destruct.”

* * *

“I will never yell at Garrus about how much time he spends calibrating our main guns again!” Joker shouted, his hands flying up in excitement. “Yeah!”

“We have merely damaged the ship, Jeff,” EDI said.

“It’s more than we did two years ago,” Joker retorted. “Man, that Thanix Cannon packs one hell of a punch.”

“I will be sure to relay your comments to Officer Vakarian.”

Joker groaned. “Please don’t. Shepard _just_ got him civilized again. I’d hate to see what he’s like with an inflated ego.”

“Should I relay your comments to Shepard instead?”

“Gah, EDI … no!”

“As you wish, Jeff.”

Joker noticed movement on the screen in front of him. He leaned forward. “Uh oh.”

“Yes, it does appear that they are coming around for another pass.”

“ _Go away!_ ” Joker shouted at the screen, before turning his attention to the panels in front of him. He hoped the Thanix Cannon had enough juice for a second shot.

* * *

Garrus halted outside of the room where the Doctor had convinced the five geth to ally with him earlier, sniper rifle drawn. “We’ve got company. A Prime, and at least twenty other geth,” he reported.

“This should have been _clear_ ,” Shepard groaned. “Where did they come from?” She shook her head. “Never mind. Legion, Ace -- is there any alternate way back to the TARDIS?”

“No route exists that would ensure arrival before the station self-destructs,” Legion said.

“Right. Through it is, then. Everyone ready?” Shepard didn’t actually wait for their answer, a blue corona surrounding her body. In the blink of an eye she vanished, reappearing at the edge of the group of geth and knocking several of them over.

The Doctor had to admire how quickly the others sprang into action -- how they needed no verbal guidance to start working together. Garrus’ sniper rifle was picking off some of the geth troopers that Shepard had knocked off balance, thinning the herd so that she wouldn’t get overwhelmed. Miranda, too, worked to support Shepard, using her biotics to slam some of the geth into the ceiling or the floor. Some of them recovered from the indignation of being tossed around, but many others didn’t.

Mordin, Tali, and Legion seemed to come to some silent agreement to focus on the Prime. Tali and Legion both deployed combat drones to start harassing it, electric blue sparking out from both sides to strip the shields away. Mordin fired off a few rounds from his pistol, then brought his omni-tool up to send a flare of orange light streaking towards the Prime.

Ace took up a position next to the Doctor, raising its rocket launcher and firing upon the Prime. It gave a loud, angry shriek as chunks of armor were dislodged by the explosion. “Wish I were standing downwind!” Mordin followed this up with a few coughs.

The Doctor brought his omni-tool up, the gesture far swifter and surer than it had been the first time he’d used it. He hesitated only a moment before repeating Mordin’s earlier attack on the Prime. Shepard, he thought, didn’t need or want his help, and he felt he had a duty to protect Ace.

“Reinforcements, incoming!” Miranda shouted, and the Doctor started to actually worry.

* * *

Chakwas had barely managed to get herself into one of the beds in the medical bay before the ship started spinning around her from EDI’s “evasive maneuvers”. _More like vomit-inducing maneuvers_ , she thought. Of course, part of her extreme discomfort was likely from the fact that she typically took herself to crew quarters for acceleration and sat in a _chair_ instead of strapped to a bed like some old-time mental patient.

She cast a quick glance over at Thane, seeing that he had his eyes closed and his hands folded across his chest, murmuring something under his breath. Prayers, perhaps. _Not a bad impulse, all things considered_.

Chakwas closed her eyes and took in several deep breaths, trying to disassociate herself from her surroundings. The Normandy turned sharply. Chakwas heard a soft, almost inaudible _rrrip_ and opened her eyes to see one of the damned straps starting to tear. She bit back a cry of fear and tried to keep herself absolutely still. It was only one strap. There was a _reason_ the straps covered nearly her entire body.

_Rrrrip. Rrrrip._

* * *

The group of geth that had initially blocked their path were dead, but others had just kept pouring in, and they were running out of time.

“We need to make a break for it,” Shepard said through gritted teeth, raising herself up to fire upon the enemy geth.

“Shepard, I don’t think we can,” Miranda replied. “There’s too many of them.”

 _No. My death is in another universe and a thousand years._ The Doctor looked at the geth platforms moving inexorably towards the group, backing them into a literal corner.

Including a second Prime.

The towering geth raised one of its arms and pointed at the group. “Creator,” it said, its voice a deep boom.

 _Tali._ The Doctor whipped his head and saw a group of geth, moving with perfect synchronicity, fire upon the quarian. The world seemed to slow around him, as it so often did in times like these. Shepard was shouting Tali’s name, shoving the others aside roughly in an attempt to get to her in time. Tali was lifted off her feet by the force of all that firepower, slamming into the wall behind them before crashing to the ground.

Seeing that, Shepard froze, her face going cold. “You _bastards_.” Biotic blue energy surrounded her body, seemingly brighter and more intense than before, and then she was in the middle of the group of geth, breaking them apart and using her shotgun to give the rest of them some breathing room.

“How long do we have?” Garrus asked.

“Thirty seconds,” Legion replied.

In the horrible silence, it was Miranda who stated the obvious. “We can’t make it in time.”

* * *

The Normandy turned itself upside down, and Chakwas’ straps finally gave way entirely, dumping her onto the floor. “No, no, no!” she cried, hands scrabbling across the smooth surface for something, _anything_ , that she could hold onto. She cursed the _idiot_ who hadn’t ensured that the straps were rated for gravitational forces as well as simple patient restraint.

Her hands finally closed on the legs of the bed. She held on with all the strength she could manage, her hands and arms aching with the effort. Her only hope was that EDI would stop tossing the Normandy about soon.

Then the floor became the ceiling and Chakwas lost her grip on the bed. She gave a wordless cry as she was torn away from the bed, slamming into the ceiling. Every part of her ached from the impact, and she had no time to get her bearings before the Normandy tilted again and she was careening for one of the walls. _Got to get a hold of something --_

Chakwas’ head hit the wall, and blackness overtook her.


End file.
